


let the ocean waves rock you to sleep

by 8The_Great_Perhaps8



Series: the chronicles of cassandra johanna von musel klossowski de rolo, vox machinan [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lesbian Character, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-10 20:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8The_Great_Perhaps8/pseuds/8The_Great_Perhaps8
Summary: "Let the ocean waves rock you to sleep,my darling.Let them take you far away from here.Let them wash you away, far across the deep,for that far awaythere is nothing to fear."Cassandra Johanna von Musel Klossowski de Rolo does not end at Whitestone.Book the Second: Death and Dragons





	let the ocean waves rock you to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> previously; book the first: death and rebirth

The first thing that they do after all of the survivors have been evacuated to Whitestone is they go to Vasselheim.

Ostensibly, it’s to pick up supplies and to seek allies, but they all know that there’s no potions in Vasselheim and even fewer people who feel the burning need for adventure, the need to go out and save worlds.

They go to Vasselheim because it’s one of very few cities that they know that still stands. They go to Vasselheim to gather what few allies they have- Kima and Kashaw and Zahra, maybe, maybe some other folks, if they want to come with.

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when they see Vasselheim, whole and unruined.

They stop by the Slayer’s Take first, figuring that an organization that specializes in hunting monsters would want to help save the world.

But Vanessa’s heart is set on gold, even more than Vex’s is, and she just smiles at them with a terrible smile and asks what kind of price they would be willing to set on a mission to kill the dragons that would tear apart the world.

Cassandra almost wants to cut her neck open at that- what kind of person thinks of gold when there is a world at stake, when the fate of every soul on the planet is at stake- but Scanlan steps in, like he always does all charming words and silky lies. Instead of immediately ejecting the party from her office, Vanessa leads them beneath the Slayer’s Take, down to the chamber of Osysa, where she summons the sphinx.

Questions are asked and answers are given, and they learn that they must find Osysa’s mate to find the Vestiges that will give them half a fighting chance against the dragons.

All that they do get in Vasselheim is Lady Kima, from the Temple of Bahamut- after Highbearer Vord had tried to shove some blonde ninny on them- Kashaw, who Vex spends the day glaring at, despite the fact that Vax has given up on Keyleth in an effort to keep Cassandra from feeling bad, and despite the fact that Cassandra elbows Vex’ahlia whenever she catches her glaring; Zahra, who manages to greet Cassandra and Vax with one tail swipe back and forth; a few potions that Zahra and Kash help intimidate into a discount; information on the vestiges that only takes Grog, Scanlan, and Vax getting the shit beat out of them to get; and a book that cost Vex’ahlia thirty gold which puts her in one of her snits.

“So,” Vex’ahlia says, reading from a book that she still seems very angry to have, “the Vestige under the lake is called the Deathwalker’s Ward. It belongs to the champion of the Raven Queen, blah-de-blah, the first dude to wear it was named Purvan-”

“Was named _what_?” Cassandra interrupts, Grog chortling next to her. “That’s bullshit. You’re bullshitting us!”

Vex moves the book over to Cassandra’s line of sight without stopping narration. “Purvan, the champion of the Raven Queen, gave up his name for her, so everyone called him ‘the champion’ in public.”

“Well, with a name like Purvan, that probably wasn’t a great sacrifice,” Kashaw interjects.

“How’s that spelled, sister, S-C-A-N-L-A-N?” Vax suggests, shoving his face between his sister’s and Cassandra’s.

“I haven’t perved on anyone in months!” Scanlan protests weakly.

“P-U-R-V-A-N,” Vex’ahlia says. “Reportedly. Anyways, we all gotta get our respective perves on to get to the lake and get this Vestige.”

They spend the rest of their journey to the lake laughing at the name of an ancient, extremely powerful being, which Cassandra just _knows_ is gonna bite them in the ass later. Zahra says as much, telling the sky that she wasn’t associated with Vox Machina.

They make camp on the shores of the lake, Cassandra dropping like a rock as soon as she gets her bedroll set up in the tree. Vax and Vex each try to wake her up at least once, but flipping them each off and emphasizing her snoring has the delightful effect of getting people to leave her alone when she’s trying to sleep. It’s amazing how infrequently she gets forced into taking watch.

In the morning, Vax talks excitedly about seeing a rock (roc?) that he and the others had helped save when they were all cows (Cassandra is nearly certain that there’s just gunk in her ears when he says that), while Vex raves about seeing a pack of Owlbears and getting several Owlbear feathers, which she made into arrows.

“Do Owlbear feathers do anything special?” Keyleth asks.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out!” Vex’ahlia exclaims, eyes glowing with possibilities.

They finish their breakfast with only a little more ribbing at each other, and then begin the mission.

Keyleth shoots her hands up above her head, and the water suddenly lifts up off the floor of the lake, nearly half spilling over the sides, while she holds the rest in an aquatic bridge.

“Go-go-go!” Keyleth yells. “I can only hold this spell so long!”

They all rush down to the floor of the lake, Keyleth following behind very slowly, like she’s carrying the entire lake in a bucket.

After a few minutes of examination, plus both the twins getting stuck in the mud and nearly pulling Cassandra in behind them before Scanlan finally bails them all out with Bigby’s Hand, they discover a rather large door that had been previously hidden behind a small-ish pile of rocks. They rush in just as Keyleth loses the spell, and only Scanlan’s quick thinking saves them all from drowning before they’ve even managed to get one Vestige.

They descend the stairs within the ruins quickly, Vex and Vax both dripping mud from the chest down, before they finally come to a swinging-axe trap.

“What a _conundrum_!” Scanlan says, from the other side of the axes, because he’s a tiny piece of shit and just crawled in the four inches underneath the axes’ paths. “However will we defeat this problem?”

Cassandra glares, then rolls her eyes.

“If we just reach into those little slots,” Vax begins, “we could deactivate these pretty easily.”

“Oh, yes,” Cassandra agrees flatly. “I love getting my hands chopped off by axes at the bottom of a lake. It’s just delightful.”

“Think of it this way,” Kash says sardonically, “we get two tries apiece.”

Cassandra snickers.

The trap is eventually disarmed without any of the party getting de-armed, and they move past to the first layer of the temple.

There, Cassandra and the twins pull everyone to a stop at the side of an enormous lake, motioning for everyone to remain quiet, although Zahra nearly alerts the creatures on the opposite side of the lake to their presence when she trips and falls flat on her face. Everyone else manages to cover for her, and Vex sneaks around to see if she can understand what the creatures are saying.

She returns, and reports that the turtle-creatures know that they’re all here, and are preparing for a battle.

“Well,” says Grog, with Kima next to him, cracking her knuckles loudly, “let’s go give ‘em a fuckin’ battle!”

They make their way through the temple slowly, killing the turtle-creatures whenever they come across them.

The problem, it turns out, was less the turtle creatures, which fall after only one or two knife strikes, and more the huge fucking beholder that nearly knocks Cassandra unconscious. Zahra is the one who finally manages to kill it, and then runs towards the corpse with a disturbingly gleeful Keyleth to harvest Beholder bits. Behind the rest of the party, Grog and Vex are fucking with Vax, who somehow fell in a hole and can’t manage to climb his way back out. Scanlan is on the other side of the hole, singing songs that Cassandra is almost positive aren’t really helping Vax get out of the hole at all. Kima is sitting in the corner, fixing herself up from a very rough fight, and watching the hole shenanigans, somewhat bemused.

Cassandra turns away from the rest of her family, snickering quietly to herself, and heads to the large sarcophagus on the top of the dais in the far back of the room.

She examines the open casket for traps and sees none, only the decomposed body of Purvan, wearing beautiful armor and absolutely covered with jewels.

Cassandra turns back around in order to try and find a second opinion on the traps, only to get scared half to death by Vex’ahlia sneaking up on her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Cassandra says emphatically, one hand over her heart. “Please don’t fucking _do_ that, Vex’ahlia! You scared me half to death!”

Vex just laughs at her, then sidles up next to her in front of the sarcophagus, tossing her arm around Cassandra’s shoulders. “You kids these days are so darn cute. Whatcha need from me?”

“I’m eighteen,” Cassandra tells Vex, miffed. “I just want to know if this armor is trapped. I didn’t think it was, but I really love being safe and not getting killed in underwater temples after fighting Beholders.”

Vex laughs again and pinches Cassandra’s cheek. As Cassandra scowls and shoves away from Vex, the half-elf walks around the sarcophagus and examines it fairly thoroughly, from Cassandra’s perspective.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it,” she finally declares. “Listen, you can get all of this nonsense out of the sarcophagus, alright? I have to go make sure that my idiot brother doesn’t die in a hole because of Grog and Scanlan fucking with him.”

“Alright, go rescue your idiot brother. If you need me, I’ll be here.”

As Cassandra reaches into the sarcophagus to retrieve the armor, she knows that something is wrong. She knows this deeply, intimately, and immediately, as though she had already known it and had only briefly forgotten it. As she realizes this, her hand brushes the armor, and-

First, she feels the shockwave of the energy.

Then, there is nothing.

There is a complete void surrounding Cassandra, the sudden loss of the floor beneath her, the sudden loss of the noise of her friends in the background, the sudden loss of Cassandra’s remembering- or, rather, she remembers it all, but it’s all hidden behind a spider-silk curtain. Not important right now.

From the void appears a porcelain-faced woman, simply gazing at Cassandra.

“Do you accept the charge of becoming my champion?” asks the woman, and her voice shakes Cassandra to the core with the power of it, with the undeniability of it, with the steadiness of it.

“You are the Raven Queen,” says Cassandra. She does not ask, but only because she is certain that if she shows any doubt, she will never go back to her friends.

“I am.” Says the porcelain-faced woman, and suddenly Cassandra realizes that she and her are not the same height. The Raven Queen was just so far away, and suddenly, Cassandra is standing within the Raven Queen’s enormous palm. “Do you accept the charge of becoming my new champion?”

“What will happen if I do not?” Cassandra asks.

“You will die,” says the porcelain-faced woman. “And I will not guide you to your next life.”

“So,” Cassandra infers, “I may accept your charge, or I may perish, with my eternal soul wandering the realms, helpless and afraid?”

The porcelain face twists into soft smirk. “You will not wander. You will stay eternally bound to the prime material plane, slowly forgetting who you are until you devolve into a shade or a banshee.”

Cassandra glares and folds her arms. She has not backed down from vampires, she has not bowed to beholders, she has not died to dragons nor fallen to sphinxes nor folded to armies of mindflayers and she will not, not even for a second, pretend to be satisfied with a god and her shitty, shitty deal.

“I accept your charge,” Cassandra says. “But I do it under duress. With no other reasonable choice in the matter, I will become your champion.”

The porcelain face does not react to Cassandra’s acquiescence, nor her somewhat arrogant addition. “We shall see what fate holds.”

The Raven Queen is suddenly gone, and Cassandra is alone in the void. Then, she realizes that she does not know who she is- she has never known. She was, once, but now she has never been.

And then, she realizes that she is not. There is only the void.

The void is nothing. There is no void. There was, once, but now there has never been nor ever will be.

Then, now, before, the void of void, the lack of emptiness in a spaceless dimension, became, was, is, unbreathable, suffocating, but there isn’t, never has been, never will be, anything that might be breath.

Then, the words vanish, the thoughts vanish, the life that was, but never had been, vani

 

 

  
Cassandra comes back to consciousness with a sharp gasp, nearly rising entirely off of the surface where she lay before her head falls back- not onto the cold, damp stone of the temple, but onto someone’s folded legs. As she rolls her eyes up towards the ceiling, she sees Keyleth’s terrified face above her, along with Scanlan, Grog, and Kima to her right, and Vax and Vex to her left. Between Scanlan and Grog is Kashaw, who seems to be coming down off of casting some sort of spell, and between the twins is Zahra, who is wholly focused on Kashaw.

“Hey, Kiki,” Cassandra says softly, smirking to try and lighten the mood. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re at a funeral.”

At that, Keyleth starts sobbing, and Cassandra has no idea what she’s done.

She forces herself into a sitting position, brushes away everyone else, all telling her to wait just a minute, take a breather real quick, don’t push yourself.

“Keyleth?” Cassandra says softly, sitting quietly across from the druid. “What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering, Keyleth just throws herself at Cassandra and hugs her tight, like she’s afraid that she’s going to lose her if she lets go.

After a brief moment of shock, Cassandra returns the hug and begins rubbing Keyleth’s back. Over the half-elf’s shoulder, she locks eyes with Vax and shoots him a questioning look.

“Cassie,” he says softly, with his face that he doesn’t want to care about Cassandra, doesn’t want to think about how he would be upset if she left them all behind, “You died.”

Cassandra freezes, momentarily. “No,” she hears herself say. “No, that’s impossible.”

But she knows that it isn’t. She was chosen by the Raven Queen Herself, and that is not a lightly-made pact. It makes sense that the god of death would only choose a champion while the champion was dead. It would explain the void, the indescribable feeling of death, and Cassandra knows what happened to her.

“Oh,” she says, quietly, still hugging Keyleth. “I died.”

“Yup!” Kashaw says, standing up quickly. “And I revived you, and we should leave, now, before my ex gets here and kills all of us! Let’s go-go-go, folks!”

Keyleth finally releases Cassandra from her embrace and pulls away. “I was so s-s-scared, Cassie. Kash cast the spell, and he did everything, b-but you wouldn’t wake up, and we d-didn’t know what was wrong, and–”

“Hush, Kiki,” Cassandra tells her. “I was having a conversation with someone. That’s probably why I got stuck.”

Keyleth hiccups. “Are you- do you feel alright?”

Cassandra can see the gears turning in Keyleth’s head as she compares her words with what other people would have said, and how Keyleth is flinching at herself already.

“I mean, pretty much,” Cassandra says, interrupting Keyleth’s train of thought. “Real, like, tired all th’ sudden, though.”

Vex and Vax each offer an arm to help Cassandra up, and she takes both gratefully.

“Should we even take the armor?” Vax asks.

Cassandra nods. “It’s mine,” she says definitively. “What happened to me- that armor is mine, now.”

Vax nods and stands aside for Cassandra to grab all the armor and the one small pendant that hasn’t vanished from the casket with the rest of the jewels. He doesn’t get out of her way enough to not be a nuisance, and Cassandra isn’t shy about letting him know how he’s inconveniencing her.

After a few minutes, Cassandra has all the armor and the pendant gathered in her arms, her pack back over her shoulder, and she’s got a terrible shiver.

“Cassie-bo-bassie, are you sure you’re okay?” Scanlan asks as they all make their way out of the lake, Keyleth again holding the water at bay. “You look shitty.”

Cassandra glances down at him. “Mm-hm. I feel shitty, as one usually does after dying.”

Scanlan snorts, then shrugs and makes an ‘eh, fair’ noise.

They climb out of the lake basin, Cassandra stumbling momentarily before Vex’ahlia catches her.

“You’re alright, darling,” Vex says softly, guiding Cassandra to an overturned tree trunk. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Cassandra coughs into her elbow and is greatly relieved when there’s no blood to be seen. “I certainly hope so.”

After a moment is given for Cassandra to rest, they continue back to Whitestone, planning on traveling to Pyrah to save what’s left of Keyleth’s people the next day.

They rest within the treeline next to the lake.

Cassandra does not. Cassandra stays up through the night, ducking under the cover of sleep just long enough to avoid exhaustion, but not going deep enough to allow any dreams to sneak into her head. The lake is too close– the tomb is too close, the death is too close, the deal is too close.

The next morning, they leave to save the Fire Ashari from whatever chaos has come from Thordak’s escape.

Kashaw, Kima, and Zahra diverge from them to travel to Whitestone.

The journey up the mountain is awful- beyond the raging storm all around them, a group of giants have made it their sole mission to annoy Cassandra and the rest of Vox Machina to death.

At the top of the mountain, they meet with Keyleth’s father and the Headmaster of the Pyrah, where they hammer out a vague plan to close the rift.

Things go sideways pretty quickly, particularly when they run into a blue dragonborn by the name of Gert Blanston.

Cassandra figures that maybe she would get along with Gert under different circumstances. He’s a little weird, a little out there, and those seem to be the kinds of people that Cassandra gets along with best.

Except for, as it happens, Gert Blanston has along with him a group of undead thralls that he treats completely and utterly callously.

“Well, what can you do?” Gert asks at one point, shrugging his shoulders and speaking in his stupid fucking accent. “They’re just bodies. No thoughts in those coconuts!”

Cassandra only grits her teeth at that and resolves to ignore him completely, which is very difficult when Vex’ahlia keeps leaning over her shoulder to point out how suspicious he is.

“What the FUCK is he picking up!” Vex hisses to her at one point, during a lull right after fighting a djinn. “What is he doing? I don’t like him!”

Cassandra scowls and downs a long gulp of gin from her canteen. “Well, I fucking hate him.”

“You’re both just mad because he has a flying broom and magic candles,” Vax says, putting his chin on Cassandra’s other shoulder. “Maybe if either of you had magic, you would be more positive about things.”

“Vax’ildan,” Cassandra says, fingers tightening around her canteen, “if you value one or both of your eyes, or your knees, or any other body part of yours, then I recommend that you get your chin off of my shoulder and never say anything like that again.”

Vax backpedals away from Cassandra so quickly that she’s fairly certain that he must have teleported away.

They finish off banishing the fire elementals back to the fire plane, then destroy the portal, and leave Gern alone to gather dragon parts in an effort to get revenge on some jerks. Gern has lost all three of his undead thralls, and Cassandra is feeling none too generous towards him.

“I still don’t like him,” Cassandra says, watching Gern with her arms folded across her chest. “I fuckin’ hate him.”

“I know,” Vex’ahlia says, except now she’s sounding suspiciously cheerful, more like Keyleth than like Vex. “What a jerk, right?”

“Vex’ahlia,” Cassandra says coolly, taking out her canteen (which she is going to very quickly need to rename ‘flask’), “do you recall how I threatened your brother, about ninety minutes ago?”

“Yup! Yup! Leaving! Vex has a new mystery and she loves it! Going away!” Vex’ahlia sing-songs, prancing off to hang off of Grog’s shoulders and flirt or something. 

They finish cleaning up the area, and then Scanlan sets up a mansion for them to stay in for the night.

The rest of Vox Machina hang out and play around with the other remaining members of Ashari, and Vex excites Scanlan by asking to visit his room, which ends in an apparent disappointment for Scanlan.

Cassandra goes to the library that Scanlan creates in a half second in the mansion- and she has a brief spot of horror at the thought of Scanlan being able to do that in the real world- and finds the one of the only non-pornographic books in the library. She reads it in her bedroom, which Scanlan has managed to decorate in tasteful pastels mixed with horrifying neons, and manages to sleep in her barely drifting state.

Again, she doesn’t dream. She drifts in and out of consciousness, barely there, each time barely seeing the silhouette of a woman in the corner of her bedroom. Early in the morning, before anyone else wakes up, she finally snaps out of unconsciousness, heart beating too fast as she looks around the room frantically, searching for the silhouette of the woman that she knows isn’t there.

Cassandra goes down to the kitchen anyway, even though she knows that no one else is down there.

Cassandra watches Scanlan’s invisible servants pull out platters full of chicken for breakfast, then pulls several potatoes out of her sack and begins making herself hash browns in the kitchen.

By the time Cassandra has finished her hash browns and sat down at the dining room table; the rest of Vox Machina have managed to make their respective ways downstairs. Everyone gathers around the table, with Keyleth and Vax both trying to steal hash browns from Keyleth and/or attempting to pressure her into making hash browns for them after they both realize that the only food the mansion has is chicken.

“No,” Cassandra says, shoving hash browns and tomatoes into her mouth. “I made hash browns and tomatoes for me. I got up early to eat something that wasn’t chicken. If you want to eat something non-chicken, you have to get up early too. Or you can pay me.”

“How much?” Vax asks, dueling his knife against Cassandra’s fork.

“Thirty thousand gold, you piece of shit,” Cassandra tells him. “I’m trying to eat.”

“Vaxy, stop trying to steal Cassie’s hash browns,” Vex’ahlia says, and Cassandra could swear that she’s floating. Cassandra leans around Vax, and sees that Vex’ahlia is lying flat on a very familiar broomstick.

“Is that Gern’s fucking broom?” Cassandra bursts out suddenly, hash browns spraying out of her mouth and onto Vax.

“He said I could have it!” Vex’ahlia defends. “I tried to make him keep it, but he insisted that I take it!”

“Vex’ahlia!” Cassandra exclaims, slamming her hash brown plate on the table. “You fucking stole that broom!”

“I did not!” Vex’ahlia says. “He gave it to me!”

Cassandra stares deep into Vex’s eyes, and decides that it’s definitely not worth it to fight her on this.

“I’m not mad that you fucking robbed _him_. It’s just fucking il-leg-al,” she declares primly.

She turns back to her hash browns to see that Keyleth has stolen her plate and is scraping the potatoes and tomatoes that are left into her mouth desperately.

“Fuck, Keyleth! Those were my hash browns, and now you owe me thirty thousand gold!” Cassandra slams back into her chair and folds her arms across her chest. “That was so fucking mean.” She reaches across the table and nabs a chicken sandwich.

“Mm-mm-mm!” Keyleth protests, mouth full of hash browns.

“You are so,” Cassandra grumbles, eating huge chunks of chicken. “What did I ever do to you to warrant you robbing me of my precious potato/tomato delight?”

They spend another few minutes ribbing each other, and Vex decides to do shooting practice from atop her broom, which ends with Scanlan being nearly impaled by one of her arrows before they all leave, while Keyleth walks over to her father to have a brief exchange.

Finally, Keyleth opens the hole to the Sun Tree and ushers everyone through.

As soon as Cassandra steps into Whitestone, her head suddenly begins throbbing with an immense pain.

“Grog,” she says, teeth gritted, “may I have my armor from the bag of holding, please?”

“Uhh,” Grog says, but he does not protest. He retrieves the armor, retrieves the pendant, and places them into Cassandra’s arms.

“Phenomenal,” Cassandra says, and strides off towards a nearby alleyway to vanish from the group.

She marches towards the castle, head throbbing with a stabbing pain with each step she takes. As she enters the castle, she drops into the shadow and makes her way to her own room- not her childhood room, but the room that used to be Vesper’s, which Cassandra has redecorated with blues and greens and an enormous array of quilts that clash violently with each other and every other color in the room.

In the moment just after Cassandra shuts the door to her room, she slumps a bit, and then- with sudden anger- takes her new armor out of her pack and throws it as hard as she can across the room. It clatters into a stone corner, pendant skipping across the rocks, and then Cassandra strips methodically down to her stockings and the barest of underclothes, and throws herself onto her bed. Despite the warming of Whitestone, she burrows beneath the covers and all the quilts, and presses her face deep into a pillow. She carefully removes her earring stud out of her ear and places it on her bedside table.

Then, she screams, as loud as she can, into the pillow.

Her head still pulsing angrily, Cassandra reaches around the head of the bed blindly, and pulls out another pillow from the pile to cover the top of her head with, and she just keeps screaming.

It feels like she’s only just now letting herself think about what in the world happened to her under that lake, given how the whole time since that, she’s been busy with saving Keyleth’s people and et cetera.

After nearly a full minute of loud screaming, hopefully heavily muffled by the thick stone walls and the two thick pillows, Cassandra is interrupted by a tapping pattern on her shoulder.

She slams her jaw shut, and moves the top pillow enough to turn her head towards the interloper.

Squatting next to Cassandra’s bed is Vax’ildan, looking extremely grave.

“How’d you get into my room,” Cassandra asks hoarsely. “I told you, don’t pick the lock to my room.”

“Cassie,” Vax’ildan says, laying one hand on Cassandra’s back, and Cassandra shivers unpleasantly. “It sounds like you’re upset. And I want to talk.”

“ _I_ don’t,” Cassandra says petulantly, and even though she knows that she’s acting like a brat, she pulls the pillow back over her head and tightens her grip. “I told you not to pick my room’s lock,” she adds, much more muffled.

“Cassie,” Vax’ildan says, and he tugs at the pillow atop Cassandra’s head. Cassandra holds steady, though, and she hears Vax’ildan nearly topple. “Jojo, I just want to talk. It seems like you’re upset about that tomb, and you need to talk about it.”

“I don’t _need_ to do anything. I own this entire castle, and while I’m here, you can’t make me do anything.”

Cassandra knows that she’s acting childishly, like the child that she’s constantly trying to prove to everyone else that she isn’t, but she fucking died two days ago and she hasn’t been fucking thinking about that for the past two days, and she hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep recently, so she’ll do whatever she damn well pleases.

“Cassie, come on. Don’t act like a child.”

Cassandra flushes with rage at that, and she rips the pillow off the top of her head and sits up straight in bed.

“ _Don’t_ call me a fucking child, Vax’ildan,” she says angrily, enunciating every syllable of Vax’ildan’s name. Her hair is a complete mess, tangled and falling over to the left side of her face. “Don’t pick the fucking lock to my fucking room, don’t try to fucking talk to me when I don’t want to fucking talk, don’t try to fucking take my fucking pillows, don’t try to fucking talk to me when I’m in my _fucking_ underclothes, and don’t call me a fucking CHILD!”

She slams her fist into Vax’ildan’s nose with a satisfying crunch, and then grabs him by his shoulder and drags him to the door, throwing him out into the hallway.

With one last deep, angry glare at him, Cassandra turns and slams the door behind her, locking it tight.

She glances around the room, and spots Vesper’s old writing desk. Cassandra carefully removes anything breakable from the top of the desk, then drags it to the door so that it half blocks the hinged side. Grog or Pike, or maybe even Keyleth, would be able to get in if they wanted, but Vax is completely blocked.

Having completed her mission, Cassandra climbs back into her bed, piles all of her blankets on top of her, then putting a pillow back atop her head, and she begins to go into her trance to fade in and out of consciousness, to sleep without sleeping.

Cassandra is disturbed just as the sunlight fades, by way of a sharp rapping at her chamber doors.

“Whozit?” Cassandra calls, still half-unconscious as she falls out of her bed and wraps a quilt around her like a cape.

“Uh,” comes a deep voice from the other side of the door, and Cassandra knows who it is before he says, “it’s Grog. Can I talk?”

Cassandra yawns as she heaves the desk away from the door, and then opens the door to allow Grog to enter.

“‘Fuck ya want?” she asks, settling herself grumpily on the bed.

Grog is quiet for a half beat as Cassandra draws more blankets around herself- there seems to be a chill in the air, no matter how many quilts and blankets she wears.

“‘S just,” he begins, looking down at the floor, “I wasn’t sure if you were okay. You _died_ , Cass. ‘N you were actin’ all okay about it ‘n all, back with the Pyrah. But I didn’t think that you were alright.”

Cassandra scowls at nothing. “Of course I’m not alright, Grog. I’m mad and I’m confused and I’ve got a fucking headache the size of a red fucking dragon.”

Grog is silent for another moment. “I could get Pike, to help with th’ headache thing. But I dunno how much help she would be about th’ other two.”

Cassandra absently waves her hand at Grog. “I’ll be fine in the morning. And I can figure out the other two on my own.”

Grog nods, and turns as if to leave. Half a second later, he turns back to her. “Oh! I almost forgot. Vax says that ‘e’s real sorry about picking the lock to your room earlier, and that he really wants to talk to you. Whenever you’re ready.”

Cassandra raises an eyebrow at this and looks around the room. “Tell Vax that if he really feels that bad about it, he should come here and apologize to me like a fucking adult instead of hiding behind a goliath.”

Grog looks around the room too, looking much more confused than Cassandra. “Uh, alright.”

There’s an awkward moment of silence. “Is there anything else you want me to tell ‘im?” Grog finally asks.

Cassandra sighs. “No, Grog. You can go if you like.”

“Alright,” Grog says, and finally turns and ducks out of the doorway, slamming the door shut behind him. Cassandra waits a moment to see if it will open and close again, but either Vax is too smart to do that right away or he wasn’t actually in the room with her and Grog in the first place.

“Whatever,” Cassandra mutters to herself. She gets up from her bed and changes into warm, comfortable pajamas, before crawling back underneath all of her blankets.

She tries to go back into her trance, conscious and unconscious, and she can tell that she’s nearing the threshold.

Instead, she is pulled under the waves of sleep, and she dreams.

It’s only in flashes- she is in a rowboat in a sea of black, and her companion is a lovely woman dressed to the nines, complete with a porcelain mask; she is lying completely still on a table in a grand dining hall bedecked in red tapestries, watching as Sylas and Delilah and Percival consume her flesh, and all she feels is contentment; she is running through a dark forest, but as she runs and continues deeper into the woods, the trees get taller and taller, and the animals stranger and stranger; she is in the topmost branch of the Sun Tree, balanced there precariously, and she topples forward, but as she falls, the ground never comes, and she flies.

She awakens, sun already risen, and she cough-moans, her throat achingly dry and her eyes nearly glued shut with sleep.

She enters the bathroom attached to Vesper’s bedroom and uses a soft washcloth and a bucket of warm-ish water to first wake herself up, then to soothe her parched throat, and then to make it look as though she had had a comfortable night’s sleep.

She goes down to the dining room for breakfast, wearing her winter nightgown and cloak, and sits down next to Keyleth to grumpily eat her scrambled eggs and blood pudding.

“Good morning, Cass!” Keyleth says brightly, and although it causes a brief spike in Cassandra’s headache, she smiles back at Keyleth half-heartedly.

“G’morning, Kiki,” Cassandra responds drowsily. She mechanically eats her entire breakfast, then glances around the room. Her, Keyleth, Vax, and Scanlan are the only ones in the room.

“So!” Keyleth exclaims, nearly startling Cassandra into spilling her glass of milk all over herself. “Plans for today involved testing out your fancy-shmancy new armor!”

Cassandra coughs into her elbow. “Keyleth, I’d really rather not stand around and get whacked about all day in order to figure out how my armor works. Besides, it probably requires attunement.”

Keyleth pouts at Cassandra. “Cassie, it’ll take twenty minutes to attune your armor, and it’s not like we’re just gonna let Grog use you for his training dummy. We just wanna figure out how it works!”

Cassandra sighs heavily. “Keyleth, I already know how the armor works. The only thing that I’m worried about is the amulet. There’s _something_ inside the fuckdamned thing, but I don’t know what the fuck it is.”

“Ooh, maybe we should go to those stone giant caves in the mountains! That way you could let out whatever’s in the necklace without hurting anyone!”

That’s what Cassandra loves about Keyleth: she can manage to make a hot, sweaty, uncomfortable, two-hour hike through the mountains of Whitestone sound like an adventure with a guaranteed happy ending.

Cassandra mumbles something that could be acquiescence, then pushes herself away from the table to return to her bedroom.

As she does, Keyleth grabs her by the wrist and tugs. “Cassandra, you need to talk Vax.”

Cass gently pulls her wrist free from Keyleth’s grip. “If that’s the case, he can talk to me first.”

She turns and leaves the room before Keyleth can make another attempt to force her into having an uncomfortable conversation with Vax.

Cassandra returns to her room and gets dressed. She hesitates briefly over her armor, but finally tugs on the Deathwalker’s Ward. She then hesitates over which of her items to unattune to- she glances between her Icebite Blade, her Stormslice, and her Ring of Protection, eventually settling on losing the ring.

As she attunes to the armor, her headache slowly fades until it’s a dull, manageable background aria. Finally fully dressed, Cassandra grabs the pendant from where it had landed on the floor and holds it up to her eye. She gazes into the dark green stone, tries to divine whatever secrets it might hold.

“Who are you,” she whispers to the gem.

She receives no answer.

Cassandra is interrupted from her reverie by a sudden, hesitant knock at her door. She pauses briefly, fastens the necklace around her own collar, and walks to the door and opens it.

Standing in the hallway, already looking like he regrets his decision immensely, is Vax’ildan. The half-elf is fingering the edges of his cloak and looking like he’s wondering how best to slink away from the conversation yet to come.

“Hi,” he says awkwardly. “Uh. May I come in?”

Cassandra stands aside wordlessly and raises an eyebrow as Vax sheepishly shuffles into her room. She shuts the door behind him as Vax takes a seat at the stool in front of her vanity.

“I’m sorry,” Vax says, words tripping over themselves to get out of his mouth. “For yesterday. I know that you don’t like it when people come into your room without permission, and I’m sorry that I picked the lock on your door and then called you a child just because you didn’t want to talk to me. That was a really shitty thing to do.”

Cassandra allows his words to ring into the empty air for a moment as she examines her fingernails, which have long been bitten down to the quick. “I accept your apology,” she says, anger still simmering beneath her skin. “Is there anything else?”

Vax’ildan is silent for a moment, and then Cassandra hears the sound of his clothes rustling as he stands. “Cassie,” he says softly. “Jojo. Are you- are you okay?”

Cassandra glares, flicks her wrist and begins to spin her Stormslice around her fingers. “I am fine, as far as you need to be concerned,” she says icily.

Vax’ildan stares at her, eyes sad and wide. “Cassie,” he whispers. “You– you _died_ , Cass. You can’t pretend to be fine.”

Cassandra smile-snarls at Vax’ildan. “As far as you need to know,” she growls, still twisting Stormslice around her fingers, “I _am_ fine.”

“Cassie–”

Cassandra holds up her hand to cut Vax’ildan off. “Vax’ildan, I’m not sure you understand. I am currently _angry_ with you. I do not want to talk to you right now. Maybe in a bit, maybe in a few hours, maybe not until it’s been a month or more. But not. Right. Now.”

Vax’ildan stares at her, hurt and confused. “Alright,” he finally says, voice hard. “Alright, fine.” He turns and leaves, leaving the door open behind him.

She closes the door, waits a moment to ensure that he’s out of earshot, and then throws Stormslice at her bed.

The knife leaves a wave of electricity through the air that then suddenly collapses in towards the bed, exploding two of her pillows and charring one of her quilts.

“Damn him,” she says, voice shaking minutely. “Damn him to all the hells.”

In the corner of her vision, a dark figure with a pure white mask flickers. As soon as Cassandra whips around to catch it, however, it vanishes again to the corner of Cassandra’s vision.

“And damn you too,” she adds, after a few minutes of feeling like a dog chasing its tail trying to catch the figure in her vision. “Damn you to all the hells right along with Vax’ildan!”

 _You don’t mean that_ says a voice, an ancient once-mortal now-divine and demanding voice. _You know that you don’t_

Cassandra glares out of the corner of her eyes. “Don’t tell me what I do and do not mean,” she hisses.

 _You don’t mean that_ the voice says again, more forcefully. _You know that your words are spoken out of anger_

Cassandra hesitates briefly, and then glares out at the air. “Maybe so,” she declares. “But maybe I don’t give a shit, and maybe you should accept my words whether they’re said out of anger or out of respect.”

A pause.

The voice chuckles in Cassandra’s ear. _So much fire_ it says appreciatively. _But don’t forget little spark that not everything needs to be fought and that not everything can be fought_

Cassandra breathes in deeply. “I think, milady, that you would be surprised what I can fight. I’ve fought dragons and vampires and necromancers and beholders and mindflayers and I’m not afraid to fight you, as well, because I have all the faith in myself and my friends that if we were to fight a god, we would win.”

The figure strokes Cassandra’s cheek softly, as a mother might. _You are so funny little spark but I want for you to know that I am not a battle that you need fight and that I may even be considered an ally for you and your friends_

And the figure is gone.

Cassandra kneels on the floor of her bedroom, not-praying and not-thinking, and then stumbles to her feet and walks to the privy to pour half a bucket of icy water on her face.

She blinks in the shock of it, and then cleans her face and retrieves her dagger and amulet and leaves the room.

It takes a full hour to gather everyone in the entrance hall of Whitestone, then another three hours to hike all the way up to the stone giants’ caves.

They enter the caves, set Grog as guard, search the room for any obstacles, and then prepare. Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan stand at the back of the chamber, in the shadows; Scanlan leans casually against the cave wall as though there were nothing interesting at all about any of this, and Keyleth stands by the entrance near Grog, clutching her staff nervously.

Cassandra breathes deeply, and then releases the creature from the amulet.

What pops out is no demon or fiend or monster, but only a wolf. It stands in front of Cassandra, growling into the cave air.

Keyleth steps forward, presumably to cast some kind of ‘speak with animals’ spell or something, but the wolf whips around to growl directly at her.

“Heel!” Cassandra commands sharply. To her surprise, the wolf turns back towards her- still growling, but slightly cowed.

“You do _not_ attempt to intimidate any member of this party, understand?” Cassandra says, glaring at the wolf. “You belong to me, now. Your former master is dead. A long time dead. Understand?”

The wolf growls, low and deep in its throat, but sits back on its hind legs and stares into Cassandra’s eyes, as though it’s asking for orders.

Then, Keyleth casts some animal speech spell and growls at the wolf. The wolf growls something back to Keyleth, without breaking eye contact with Cassandra.

“Uh,” Keyleth says, this time in Common, “the wolf wants your orders.”

Cassandra looks at the wolf with her Nobility-I-Am-Better-Than-You-And-Always-Will-Be look. “You can patrol Whitestone. Prevent any enemies from getting in or out. Understand?”

The wolf huffs, then stands up and walks out the cave as the rest of them watch.

There’s a huge moment of silence after the wolf exits.

“Hoooooooooly fuck,” Vax finally says softly. “That could have gone soooooooooo fucking badly.”

“Fuck,” Cassandra says. She holds the amulet up to her eye. “What the fuck am I meant to do with this?”

“Pervert used it to keep his animal companion in, right?” Vex’ahlia asks, poking her head up from behind a pile of rocks. “You should give it to me! That way I could keep Trinksy with us without him being in danger all the time!”

“Gee, I dunno, Vex,” Cassandra says drily. “After Gern was kind enough to give you his broom, do you really need any more gifts?”

Vex sticks out her lower lip and pouts at Cassandra. “Cass- _iiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee_ ,” she whines. “You know I get worried about poow widdle Twinksy! I never ask you for anything, and then I ask you for one thing, and you say no?”

Cassandra frowns ineffectually at Vex’ahlia, then tosses the locket to her, following all that nonsense up with a whiny nonsense-mockery of what Vex had just said.

“Thank you, darling,” Vex sing-songs again. She fastens the amulet around her neck. “I’m too good at taking gifts from people for my own good.”

“Meh, mrrr muh meh myeh,” Cassandra mutters in a childish, nasal impersonation of Vex’s voice.

They make their way back to Whitestone quickly, hearing the occasional wolf cries in the distance.

“Lady Cassandra,” Benji says, as soon as they enter. “Your– project. Has been completed.”

Cassandra’s eyes widen in delight. “Where?”

“Still downstairs, by the acid pits. I presume that you want to see it?” Benji asks, voice still the faux-formal that he thinks he needs to use with Vox Machina.

“Yes!” Cassandra turns to the rest of Vox Machina. “Guys, wanna see a super cool sword?”

After a series of affirmations, Cassandra and Benji guide the group down through the caverns of Whitestone, all the way down to the acid pits, where they meet with Johann Cohen, the blacksmith of Whitestone.

“Milady,” Cohen says, holding the sword, which is still wrapped in fabric, “this was quite the challenge. I appreciate the opportunity.”

“Of course,” Cassandra says. “It’s an honor for the De Rolo family to request your services again, sir.”

Cohen nods sharply, then passes the blade off to Cassandra and receives his bag of gold from Benji.

As she unravels it, she gasps at the sight of the beautiful sword. Its center is a sharp, shining iron, which is encased within a layer of Whitestone glass, made from melted residuum. It’s a time and a half as long as Cassandra’s entire arm, and the hilt is iron clothed in the royal blue and gold of Whitestone.

“Cool,” Grog says.

“Do you forgive me for throwing your sword in acid now?” Scanlan asks.

“Absolutely not,” Cassandra says as she flourishes with the sword. “We’re planning on making quite a few more of these. Apparently, they can block spells! Isn’t that amazing?”

“Mm,” Vex’ahlia agrees distantly, while Grog, Scanlan, and Keyleth agree much more readily. “Cassie, darling, may I speak to you in private for a bit?”

Cassandra gives Vex’ahlia a look, but puts her sword back over her shoulder and follows her to a corner as Keyleth, Scanlan, and Grog wander off.

“Cassie,” Vex says softly, placing one hand on Cassandra’s shoulder, “are you okay?”

Cassandra’s face freezes awkwardly before she relaxes it. “As alright as I can be, I suppose.”

“Cassie,” Vex reprimands. “You’ve been so busy since, you helped save Keyleth’s people, and then we got back here and since then you’ve just been– besides your fight with Vax’ildan, you’ve just been acting so happy-go-lucky, like you’re not thinking about it.”

Cassandra smiles tightly. “I’m fine, Vex. Don’t worry so much.”

She turns, swinging her sword into her sheath, and leaves the chambers whistling.

The rest of the day, what little is left, is spent mostly in solitude. Cassandra stays in her room and reads Vex’s book on the Raven Queen.

Cassandra falls asleep early, before the stars have come out.

She sleeps, and she dreams.

She sees Vasselheim, but from afar- as though she were hovering in the air, hundreds of feet up- and there are charnel storm clouds gathering behind it. She flashes forward, and she feels terribly nauseous, and she sees the Amaranthine Oubliette in the background, directly behind the Vasselheim temple to the Raven Queen. She flashes forward again, through the temple, and then she is standing weak-kneed in Whitestone Snow of five years ago, totally nude and coated in icy cold blood that runs like water from her scalp down to her toes. She turns around in panic, splattering crimson into the surrounding snow, where it sizzles, contrary to its icy temperature on Cassandra’s skin.

She turns again, realizes that she has lost her sense of North-East-West-South, and she runs. She can hear the baying of wolves in the distance- neither hunting dogs nor coyotes, she is certain, but the gray wolves that prowl the snowy peaks of the mountains around Whitestone.

She stops running, suddenly, realizing that there is no need to run. There is no fear beating through her veins, forcing her heart into overdrive, clouding her thoughts. She hears but one wolf baying, and it is the wolf that she had just tamed. There is nothing the heiress of Whitestone, the heiress to the Grey Hunt, the heiress of the monsters and beasts and terrors that prowl the coastal shadows, to fear from a simple grey wolf that has already been tamed.

“I do not fear you!” She screams defiantly to the baying wolf. “There is nothing that I need fear from your kind! I am Cassandra Johanna von Musel Klossowski de Rolo, named for my mother, sole heiress to Whitestone, vanquisher of vampires and slayer of mindflayers and I do not fear you, dammit!”

At this, there is a long, slow burble of laughter rises from the air and the snow around Cassandra, until she she is in a completely black void- no longer nude, thankfully, but now wearing the Raven Queen’s armor, which she finds less than euphoric.

No matter where she turns her head, the void remains seamless, uninterrupted, and the laughter just grows louder and louder until she’s certain that she’s going to be deafened.

Finally, just as she’s about to give up and begin running again, the void is interrupted by a porcelain mask, as Cassandra has seen before, and the laughter is silenced.

“Oh,” Cassandra says, voice dripping with disgust and disdain, “ _you_.”

The porcelain mask smiles. “Me,” it agrees. Though its body blends in with the rest of the void too perfectly for Cassandra to identify where its limbs may be, she can feel as it softly caresses her face. “My little candlelight, I am glad to know that you believe that you have nothing to fear from me.”

“I am no candle,” Cassandra says, drawing back from the grip. “I may be flame, certainly, but I am stronger than any flickering lamp. I may be wildfire, my mother lightning and my father dry brush; I may be fireball, my mother arcana and my father power; but I am no candlelight.”

The laughter returns, softer this time. “You are a _fascinating_ creature,” it says, curling its arms around Cassandra’s neck. “A far cry from Purvan, the timid boy. You are no timid farmboy.” The grip tightens around Cassandra’s neck, until she almost can’t breathe. “But you would do well to recall which between us is the deity, and which is the girl who may still yet become broken.”

Cassandra spits at the figure as she chokes, and the figure releases her suddenly.

“People have tried to break me before,” she rasps. “But they have failed. I have survived worse than a god.”

The figure pauses, a furious, shocked silence filling the forest. And then, it chortles, loud and long and endless.

“Do you pretend that you were not shattered by the people who killed your family?” the voice purrs. “Do you presume that you were more than shards when your new family found you?”

The figure seizes Cassandra by the shoulders suddenly. “You have cheated death once before, little fireball. You will not cheat her again.”

Cassandra’s dream ends then, and she sits up stick-straight in her bed, skin slick with cold sweat and breathing heavily, as though she were nearly drowned during the night. She is cold, nearly freezing, but the sun is already risen, leaving her no good excuse for staying in bed any longer.

She rolls out of bed, stumbles into reasonable clothing- leave the armor for later, Cassandra, only use it when you need it- and walks into her washroom to splash water on her face, wake herself up, convince herself that everything is alright, that dreams mean nothing nor have they ever.

When she sees herself in her looking glass, she sees herself as a mess- she’s got deep purple bags under her eyes, as though she hasn’t slept in days, she looks pale, washed-out, and her hair looks like a dead possum.

Cassandra glares at her reflection and fixes herself up.

After she has managed to make it so that nearly no one should be able to tell that she had a restless night, Cassandra leaves her room and goes to the dining hall for breakfast.

The sun already having risen means that only Vex and Grog haven’t, so everyone is gathered at one table. Cassandra finds her seat between Keyleth and Pike, and manages to devour two full bowls of porridge as Keyleth delicately eats about a third of hers, and Pike demolishes half of her bowl.

“Hungry?” Scanlan asks from across the table. “Or do you need to eat that much because you’re still growing?”

“Fuck off,” Cassandra says, through a thick mouthful of Keyleth’s porridge.

“That was _my_ porridge,” Keyleth says sadly. “I was hungry.”

Cassandra stares balefully at Keyleth. “Hash. Browns.” She says, and takes another large scoop of porridge out of Keyleth’s bowl.

Keyleth pouts, then reaches across Cassandra to try and steal a spoonful of Pike’s porridge, but the gnome yanks her bowl away, out of Keyleth’s range. “Hash browns,” Pike agrees, although Cassandra is certain that Pike hasn’t yet been informed of Keyleth’s egregious hash browns felony.

Keyleth slumps back away from the table and crosses her arms. “Mrr, hash browns, myeh mrr meh myeh.”

They all finish breakfast- including Keyleth, eventually- and leave for the Sun Tree to go to Westruun, the closest town they know to the Frostweald.

This is what they see when they arrive:

Westruun is in ruins. It is smoking, burning, and half the city is completely crushed.

“Oh, gods,” Pike says quietly.

“We should see,” Cassandra says, quietly. “Who’s left in the city. ‘Cause, Keyleth, didn’t you say that the dragon is in the mountain?”

Keyleth only nods, struck silent by the sight.

“Grog,” Vax says. “Didn’t you say that your family was here?”

“Yeah,” Grog agrees. “But they might kinda think I’m dead. An’ they might be wanderin’ somewhere else.”

“Kiiiiiiiiinda?” Vex asks. “How do they kinda think you’re dead?”

“Well, they kicked me out after I was all like, hey, don’t kill Pike’s grandpa. An’ they were all like, okay, fight your cousin. An’ I was all like, okay! ‘Cause I really like fightin’. An’ I kicked his ass, but then his dad kicked my ass, an’ then they all left ‘cause I looked real dead. But I’m not, but they haven’t seen me since my uncle kicked my ass. Ya know?”

“Uh,” Cassandra says. “Sure.”

Pike stands up on her tiptoes and pats Grog’s knuckles. “It’ll be alright, big guy.”

Grog’s lips twist into a worried a frown, before flashing back to careful neutrality. “I just hope Wilhand’ll be alright.”

This is what they discover:

The city has been taken over by Grog’s family, by his herd. They learn this from seeing the patrols, from the farmer named Reginald, and from Grog stone cold murdering his cousin. They try to learn how many are in Grog’s herd, but Grog doesn’t quite have the numbers bit down.

They set their tents on the edge of the refugee camp to sleep for the night, intent on entering the Frostweald to find Osysa’s mate in the morning.

During the night, Cassandra dreams.

She sees the ocean beneath the cliffs of Whitestone, waves crashing and breaking against the bases of the cliffs. She stands on the edge of a tall cliff, wearing a long, yellow nightgown which blows behind her in the wind. She looks up to the skies, and she sees the stars, all the stars above Whitestone, and she sees a glorious full moon.

And then the stars begin to vanish.

They disappear like gold pieces that are flicked off of a table, stretching towards the edges of Cassandra’s vision and then snapping away, until all that is left is the enormous full moon.

And then, the moon turns into an enormous eyeball, and it leers down at Cassandra, a tear appearing in the black night sky of Whitestone, and the tear becomes a heinous grin.

Then, the moon and its grin vanish.

Cassandra looks down to the ocean, as though the things which she saw in the sky were completely normal, as though there were nothing the matter at all.

The ocean, where it was once frothing blue and white and furious, has become a completely still pool of ocean water. The waves have ceased, the tides have ceased, and the water is totally empty of movement.

Cassandra shuffles forward to get a better view, and knocks a pebble loose from the cliff. The pebble falls for what seems like miles, for what seems like hours, and then, as it hits the surface, releases several enormous ripples.

Cassandra turns away from the ocean, facing inward to the Alabaster Sierras. She raises her arms above her head, and she s l o w l y allows herself to fall backwards.

As soon as she falls, she awakes with a start, forgetting all but the ocean from her dream.

It is early in the morning, the sun only barely just above the horizon. Only she, Pike, and Keyleth are awake this early, with Vex soon to follow, and then Grog and Vax.

After everyone has awoken, they head Northward, into the Frostweald.

They haven’t been walking long when they encounter a hive of basilisks, guarding a large, stone pillar. The basilisks are defeated with a few heavy whacks from Grog and a few deft hits from the others, then the holes are blocked and Scanlan puts a rock in a hole and Keyleth puts a pin in where Osysa’s mate is and Vex'ahlia guides Cassandra to a stone statue to beg her to beg the Raven Queen for help.

“He helped us,” Vex'ahlia tells her. “He was kind, he didn’t deserve this.”

Cassandra stares at the statue, twists her lips to try and remember anything about this man, tries to remember where she met him, and thinks very hard about whether or not it’s worth it to beg for help from the god that she has been nothing but cruel to.

Pike steps forward, instead, and Cassandra thanks every god that doesn’t have a corvid-themed motif.

The man awakens, armless, and after Pike spends a few minutes to calm him down, she offers that he can either come with them or go back to the camp.

“There’s maimings, occasionally,” Grog says.

“Oh, and lacerations,” Cassandra adds.

“Burnings.”

“Poisonings.”

“Head explosions.”

“Getting sliced in half.”

“Getting sliced in half the long way.”

“Getting sliced in half diagonally.”

“Torture.”

“Getting eaten alive by dragons.”

“Getting tortured inside a dragon.”

“And that’s just in the morning,” Cassandra finishes. “So, I suppose you could join us, if you like?”

The man glances over his shoulder. “Er, I’ll take my chances,” he says, and begins to turn.

Except for, Vax'ildan asks if he knows where the orcs are, and he does and they decide to take him with and give him a weapon and food and it turns out that Cassandra and Grog wasted a really cool two-person intimidation tactic for nothing.

And then, it turns out that the map maker, the one who Cassandra still can’t quite remember, is about as stealthy as a cow in a royal hall, and then Vax’ildan and Vex get into a fight over what dagger to give him, and somebody tells him that a harmless dagger makes him infertile, and then Vax looks to Cassandra and says, “Cassandra, you have a knife, right? Can Tyriok borrow it?”

Cassandra stares at Vax, dumbstruck for a moment, and then in rage. “Vax'ildan,” she says, voice carefully controlled.

“Tyriok, you don’t need a weapon. Just, stay behind us!” Vax says, changing the subject like shuffling a deck of cards.

They walk on for hours, Tyriok now only about as loud as Grog eating his breakfast, until he guides them, finally, to the orc camp.

“I’ll wait here,” Tyriok says unhelpfully.

“Yeah, good plan,” Grog tells him.

The rest of the plan that they come up with is flanking, Scanlan providing the distraction along with Keyleth summoning several dryads that trigger a pit trap.

Cassandra darts to the rear of the camp as Scanlan rolls himself in.

The fight is short, and when it’s over, they tend to the survivors and Scanlan casts his mansion for them, calls it a soup kitchen and gives them all food and a place to sleep.

Scanlan and Vex’ahlia vanish upon Vex’ahlia’s broom, searching for the mountain cave that Keyleth had determined the location of earlier.

Cassandra remains behind at the encampment, with those who had been held prisoner by the orcs, trying desperately not to be pulled into their sadness.

She decides to go and speak with Pike, who had gotten engaged with reassuring a young girl that everything was alright.

Cassandra knows enough to not interrupt Pike stopping a child from sobbing, but she fidgets anxiously in the background long enough that Pike apparently takes notice of her, and sends the little girl away to find comfort from someone else.

“What’s up, Cassie?” Pike asks her. “You alright?”

“Caaaaan we talk?” Cassandra asks, still fidgety nervous. “Somewhere. In private?”

“Sure,” says Pike, climbing up from her seat. “Let’s head into the mansion.”

And they do, and they talk in Cassandra’s room about deities and serving deities and about doing things wrong and doing them right and about doubts and about faith and about the hundred other little questions Cassandra has.

“Cassie,” Pike finally says, eternally patient and eternally kind, “if you put your heart into it and say your deepest truths, then you’ll be fine. Okay?”

Cassandra bites her tongue about her deepest truths involving the breaking of the Raven Queen’s knees, and nods.

And then she goes out and she buries the bodies in the pit trap that killed Keyleth’s dryads. She prays, but she isn’t quite sure how to pray to the Raven Queen and so she follows the rites of Pelor and prefaces her message with the request that he forward her thoughts to the Matron if her prayers don’t get there.

She feels, strangely, a kind of warmth- not the warmth of Pelor, not the warmth of the sun, but a kind of- subdued warmth, a chilled comfort.

 _It is alright_ says the familiar voice, _I know what you are trying to communicate_

Cassandra breathes deeply, tries to ignore their previous encounters. “Please,” she whispers to the divine presence, “guide them safely to their next lives.”

The chilled comfort grows stronger. _Of course my child_ it murmurs. _As I guide all who have passed_

“I-” Cassandra starts, stops, pauses. The warmth remains, if now confused.

 _Yes_ it asks her.

“I’m sorry,” Cassandra finally says. “For my previous rudeness.”

The warmth pauses, now, in consideration? Confusion? Cassandra couldn’t say.

 _It was not undeserved_ the voice finally says. _I was not a welcome guest and I did not accept that_

Another pause.

 _And anyway_ it adds, _it has been many uninteresting centuries since I have had a champion who has challenged me_

And the warmth is gone, and Cassandra stands from her praying position, and walks into the mansion.

And then Vex’ahlia and Scanlan return, and they can all rest easy.

The next day, they send off the survivors to the refugee camp and make their way to the cave that Vex’ahlia and Scanlan had discovered the previous day.

“We didn’t check for traps,” Vex’ahlia says. “‘Cause, y’know, it was just me and Scanlan, and it was just Scanlan that went in.”

“Right,” says Vax. “Well, let’s take it slow then, and we’ll check as we go.”

They step into the cave, which means that Cassandra can see exactly shit-all and needs to clutch Keyleth’s arm as a guide, which means she almost busts her head open when she’s walking down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs is a landing with a glowing pool of water in it, and some runes that no one understands.

“Well,” says Grog, “it looks like there’s only one way out.” And he cannonballs into the pool.

“Wait- dammit!” Keyleth shouts, and then casts some spell on the water and ushers everyone through the pool.

As they all follow her down, falling the final five feet onto rock and stone.

“Let’s go,” Keyleth says, forming a tunnel ahead of them. They walk through the tunnel, and come to another column, and she jettisons them all straight up.

“That was so cool,” says Cassandra. “You should do that more often.”

They all stand up, slowly, and examine the room. There’s four lions heads, a pool, a fire pit, spiderwebs, and a riddle written in the same runes as the room with the pool.

“Dammit, again?” Grog says. “And I suppose none of you smart people can read this?”

“Nope,” says Vax’ildan, and he wanders off to inspect the curtains. Keyleth starts examining the fire pit, while Grog and Vex’ahlia peer in at the water pool and Scanlan glares at the writing.

Then, Scanlan is called over by Vax’ildan to shove something into a hole, and two braziers are lit suddenly, revealing a large set of stone stairs.

“I don’t trust _that_ ,” says Cassandra.

“Probably not,” Scanlan says cheerfully, even as he walks up to it in front of Vax’ildan. The rest of Vox Machina follow slowly.

And then, the sphinx is revealed, loafing on a giant stone hand.

“I have watched you come,” the sphinx purrs.

“Uh,” Scanlan says, waving. “Osysa sent us? We’re looking for the vestiges?”

The sphinx stands, suddenly, enormous, towering above everyone. “You, you seek power, glory, retribution. I know your quarry, and I know your goal. She has told me. I can show you. But all great knowledge should not be given. You must be proven. It must be earned. It must be _earned_.” The sphinx roars, now, not purring, not soft. As it speaks, the room suddenly whips into a frenzy. The braziers flare brilliantly, what Cassandra had assumed was a fire pit has now whipped into a frenzied whirlwind.

The sphinx bares its teeth. “What is my name?”

Cassandra attempts to stab it with her Stormslice and her Icebite, but it takes next to no damage.

“Puzzle!” Vex’ahlia shouts, and then slams her head into the water pool. She stays sunder for a few seconds, and then rears her head back out of the water. “J and I!”

And then something in the room shifts, and Cassandra looks around and realizes that Vex and Vax suddenly look stupid fucking old.

Grog begins slamming his greatsword against the sphinx. Vax’ildan begins slashing at the spiderweb.

And then the sphinx roars, and Cassandra realizes that they have no chance at defeating it, and stumbles back in terror.

The battle continues, but all Cassandra can see is the sphinx, its terrible, gaping maw, and its claws, and she closes her eyes when she throws her daggers.

And then the room shakes, and Scanlan darts towards the braziers.

The room shakes again, and Cassandra suddenly feels so- sore. So old.

“M-A-L!” Scanlan shouts, pulling his head out of the flames.

Vax’ildan finishes slashing away the curtains. “K-A!”

The room shakes again, and Grog slams his greatsword into the sphinx. Almost as punishment, the room shakes again, and Cassandra suddenly feels even older.

And Grog leaps into the wind, and then Pike has got a greatsword in her stomach and everything is terrible for multiple reasons.

Pike asks Grog what letters he saw, but he isn’t speaking.

And then Cassandra sprints and leaps into the whirlwind, and begins floating away.

She floats for several seconds- nearly half a minute, by her count, and then Vax’ildan flies in, with a rope tied around his waist.

He grabs her, pulls her back out of the portal.

“O-R-I!” Grog shouts, as soon as she reappears.

“I didn’t even fucking need to jump in,” Cassandra says, somewhat shellshocked.

Vax’ildan only laughs.

“Kajimalori! Jiorimalka! Kaorimalji!” Keyleth shouts, to no reaction from the sphinx.

“Malkajiori! Jimalkaori! Jiorikamal!” Scanlan shouts- again, no reaction.

The sphinx lashes out, suddenly, knocking Pike to the side, and knocking her unconscious.

“Kamaljiori!” Vax’ildan screams.

And everything stops. The fervor and the desperation and the frenzy vanish. The sphinx sits back on its pedestal, purring.

“You have earned a name,” Kamaljiori murmurs.

There’s a brief moment of confused silence, and then Scanlan is sprinting to Pike to heal her and Grog is giving Vex’ahlia a healing potion.

“Fuck,” says Cassandra, and she realizes that she isn’t afraid anymore. As she looks around, she realizes that Grog is speaking, and all the other effects from the sphinx- all those besides the apparent aging- have been reversed.

“So I guess we’re just old forever now, huh,” Vax’ildan says.

“At least I look good,” Cassandra says.

“I can reverse the aging of but one of you,” Kamaljiori rumbles, and waves a paw over Cassandra, casting some sort of spell, and she feels herself go young again.

And then she looks at Vax and Vex, and realizes that they look middle-aged, and snickers.

“I apologize for the formalities,” Kamaljiori says. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Vox Machina.”

“Uh,” Vax’ildan says, “you too, I suppose.”

There’s a moment of silence, just enough for everyone to get healed, 

“I had to ensure your worthiness,” Kamaljiori continues. “I had to ensure that you were indeed sent by Osysa.”

Cassandra looks at him, firmly unimpressed.

“Don’t we, like, get anything out of this?” Scanlan asks.

Kamaljiori chuckles, because apparently ancient and powerful beasts think that it’s funny when Scanlan is rude to them.

“I admire your impatience,” he says. “The vestiges you seek, they have been scattered across creation. Some have found their way to different planes of existence, some have found other owners. You carry one with you now, I see.”

The sphinx glances at Cassandra, and then turns to face Scanlan. “If you would be willing to take it, I have a vestige here with me.”

“If you’re getting rid of it anyway,” Scanlan says.

“It would be a most gracious gift,” Cassandra says.

The sphinx reaches under his wing and retrieves a longsword. “This is Mythcarver. This was gifted to me by the White Duke himself, shortly before his passing.” He sets it on the stone floor in front of him. “But you yet seek the others, do you not?”

“Yes,” says Cassandra.

“Ayup,” says Grog.

Kamaljiori explains to them the location of the remaining vestiges, including a bow that they know will go to Vex’ahlia, a staff that they are certain will go to Keyleth, and a knife that she and Vax’ildan will probably fistfight over, and several other interesting items.

Then, the sphinx makes a very dramatic exit, and Scanlan snatches up the sword, and apparently Grog’s fucking greatsword that he stole from the Briarwoods transformed into something completely fucking different during the fight.

“Pike,” Grog rumbles, “are you- you doin’ alright?”

Pike looks down at the gash in her side. “I feel fine, Grog.”

Grog looks at Pike with puppy-dog eyes that look extremely out of place on his goliath face. “‘M sorry, Pike. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, buddy!” Pike says, patting Grog heavily on his palm. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

Pike continues to reassure Grog, and then they have a brief debate that ends with them taking a brief rest at the mouth of the cave.

As they finish their rest, Grog stands up, slowly, leaving the sword he had stolen from the Briarwoods behind, takes five steps forward, and then collapses face-first into the snow.

“Grog?” Pike shouts first, panicked and horrified. She sprints to Grog’s side, checking for a cause behind his fainting, and the rest of Vox Machina follows.

“He’s dead,” Pike says hollowly. “He’s fucking dead.”

She snatches the sword away from Grog’s body and hurls it away, so that it skids across the snow.

‘Is it the sword?” Cassandra asks, and everything feels terribly unreal. “Is it that motherfucking sword?”

“I don’t know,” Pike sounds, still sounding empty inside. “Break it. We gotta break it.”

“Maybe it’s a curse,” Vax’ildan suggests. “Pike, why don’t you try to restoration him?”

“Don’t break the sword,” Scanlan adds.

“Why the hell not?” Vex asks. “What else would we do with it?”

“Grog’s soul might be in it,” Scanlan tells her. “That sword, it- it talked to me, told me that it wanted to be fed, that it wanted power, that it-”

“What the FUCK,” says Keyleth. “The sword does what? The sword said WHAT to you?”

“Oh, Sarenrae,” says Vax’ildan. “What do we do?”

“Revivify,” says Pike, no longer sounding as hollow. “I’ll need everyone’s help.”

Scanlan clutches Pike’s hand. “Please,” he says quietly. “I love him as much as you do.”

Cassandra turns away quietly as everyone else surrounds Grog. “You took me against my will,” she murmurs to the air. “You killed me and blackmailed me into becoming your champion. And yet, I have agreed to work with you. I will do it from now on, with no complaints, no disagreements, no anger and no arguing. Just don’t take him away from us yet.”

The forest shades slowly unwrap themselves from the trunks of the great pine trees surrounding them and form a figure that is nearly humanoid. The figure face to face with Cassandra and places its hands on her shoulders in a nearly-maternal manner. _Little spark I believe that every death has a purpose_ The figure moves closer to Cassandra without moving. _But little spark not every death will lead itself to my domain_

The Raven Matron erases herself away, allowing the shades to dissolve back into the trees.

Cassandra turns back quickly to the rest of the group and kneels at Grog’s side.

Pike clutches Grog’s hand in both of hers, and squeezes tightly. “Grog,” she says, “you’re my brother, and you’re my best friend, and I’m not gonna let you die on me. Okay?”

There’s a brief pause, and a moment where Cassandra contemplates if there has been some kind of divine betrayal, when the gods were beseeched but they decided to toss their creations and their wishes.

And then there’s a great heaving, gasping, tearing violent anger as breath slams back into Grog’s lungs.

Cassandra heaves an enormous sigh of relief, and then falls backwards in the snow. Her gaze falls upwards, and her eyes fall upon Vex’ahlia, glaring at the sword like it just beat up her brother and it owes her money.

And then Cassandra sits back up, and realizes that Grog looks like he’s playing Momma-Had-A-Baby-And-The-Head-Popped-Off with a gnome

“I just gave you some ale,” Scanlan is hacking out as Grog squeezes. “Helped bring your sorry ass back to life.”

“Grog,” says Vex, “What in the fuck is that fucking sword?”

Grog drops Scanlan as the gnome berates him.

Vax holds up four fingers above Scanlan’s head. “How many fingers, Grog?”

“Seven,” Cassandra tosses out, trying to be unhelpful.

“Twelve!” Grog exclaims.

“He’s back,” Pike says.

“Grog!” Vex shouts angrily. “Sword! What! Explanation, now!”

Grog looks up at Vex, somewhat guiltily. “What? Craven Bacon? He’s just a regular old sword.”

“Grog,” says Vex, and oh she is _glaring_. “I’m not a fucking idiot. What is this fucking sword?”

Grog scratches the back of his head. “Well, he might get a bit hungry sometimes, so he might, y’know, ask me to feed him! And then I feed him, with blood, and then he’s really fuckin’ cool and he gets all these extra spikes and what.”

“Pause,” says Vax’ildan. “He talks to you?”

“Hang on, just a bit after that,” says Cassandra, “you feed your fucking sword _blood_ , and you never thought about mentioning it to us?”

Grog now looks extremely guilty. “But it’s a cool sword!” He protests. “It hurts people really good, an’ whenever I find somethin’ cool you guys always tell me to be careful with it, and you never let me have cool stuff like a sword that does a bunch of damage!”

Keyleth eyes him. “Grog,” she says, “that sword just ate your fucking soul.”

Grog protests a deep desire for his sword, while everyone else protests a deep desire for his fucking soul to not get stolen by a sword, and the argument is finally broken when Pike gives Grog puppy-dog eyes.

And then they throw the sword into another dimension in order to do away with it.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Pike says reassuringly. “We’ll get you a new sword. An even _cooler_ sword!”

Grog pouts at the space where Keyleth had shifted the sword away. “But I want Craven Bacon back.”

“Too bad,” Pike says, still sounding outrageously cheerful. “That sword was pure evil, Grog, and you’re not evil. So you don’t get to have it.”

They take the night in Scanlan’s mansion, with Grog pouting all night long, and then all the way back to Westruun. They stop briefly at the refugee camp, where some wizard requests a favor from them, and they agree in return for a hunk of some kind, even though they don’t really believe they’ll be doing it.

Then they plan, and they plan some more, and they plan just an eensy bit more, just to be safe, and then they all go to sleep in the mansion while the twins murder themselves outside for some reason.

The next morning, the twins inform them that they saw the dragon fly through the city, and apparently abduct one of Grog’s herdmates.

Then they keep planning, and they decide on luring out some of the herd with Keyleth making a dirt trap for them to fall into, and then Grog will go beat the shit out of his shithead uncle.

“Listen,” he says, “it’s not that I don’t totally trust you guys, and all, but- I’ve gotta do this on my own.”

“Wait,” says Keyleth. “Like, _alone_ -alone? Like, no help at all?”

“I mean, it’ll hardly be a fair fight,” Grog acknowledges. “I’m not sayin’ that I don’t wanna be doin’ it with my family, an’ with my buddy Pike an’ all, but I don’t wanna be doin’ it cheaply.”

“Well,” Keyleth says, “why don’t you and Pike just march right up to the gate and demand a challenge? I feel like you’re the most attractive bait we’ve got.”

“It would be hard for these guys to refuse a direct challenge from you,” Vex’ahlia adds.

They keep planning, and they move forward towards Westruun and begin traveling through the grass, and they discover that Reginald has been killed.

“Oh no,” Cassandra whispers, when Vax’ildan returns with the body. “Oh no, what have they done to him?”

Vax’ildan lays a hand on her shoulder, and Pike casts a spell that allows them to exchange words with him.

And then, his spirit expires, and Cassandra and Vax’ildan take him back to his land, and Cassandra prays briefly to the Raven Queen and requests for her to take good care of his soul, and then they return to the rest of the party.

They keep planning, then, and Keyleth begins digging her trench and Cassandra and Scanlan and Vex duck into Westruun to explore and to see what in the world is happening inside.

Scanlan nearly manages to get them all caught and quartered by stumbling in the wrong place, and then they’re ducking through the streets and the alleys and then, suddenly, they are all pulled into one tiny little room, and they see a certain half-orc that Vex’ahlia has a grudge with, with a large gang of goliaths chasing them outside.

“Well,” says Dr. Dranzel, “if you’d look at that, Kaylie, it’s the gnome and that human girl you were talking about yesterday!”

Dr. Dranzel steps to the side, and they see Kaylie Shorthalt, standing with two children on either side of her, and Cassandra realizes that the world is a cruel, cruel place that won’t ever grant her a bit of respite, even while dragons are destroying nearly everything, and she is staring in the face of her ex-something.

“Oh, no,” Cassandra says.

“What?” Scanlan says. “That’s my fucking daughter!”

“Aye,” says Kaylie, crossing her arms. “And that’s me father, and me ex.”

“Oh, _no_ ,” Cassandra says, trying to hide her face in her hands. “Oh, I wish I were dead.”

“Her _ex_?” Scanlan asks, sounding somewhat astounded.

“There is no kindness left in this terrible world,” Cassandra bemoans to herself. “The world is being torn apart by dragons, and now I’m talking to my ex with her father in the room.”

“Excuse me!” Scanlan exclaims, indignant.

“I somewhat feel like we’ve got more important things to deal with,” Vex interrupts.

“Quite right,” Dr. Dranzel agrees. “What in the world are you all doing in Westruun? Not that I’m not glad that you’ve made it out of Emon safely.”

“We’re here to kill the dragon,” Vex says.

“Hang on,” Scanlan says. “Kaylie, Cassandra? If I may be afforded a moment of clarification?”

“We kissed,” Cassandra says, head still buried in her hands. “Before you brought her back to Greyskull Keep. And she wrote me a letter that told me to check in with her whenever she was in Emon.”

“And you didn’t share this because?” Scanlan asks..

“Because you’re a mighty ass, and because you haven’t got to know about every damned thing that happens to us!” Kaylie bursts out. “Good gods, I’ve half a mind to slap you upside the face!”

“Why couldn’t I have stayed dead in that temple?” Cassandra asks the open air. “Why couldn’t my body be dead and buried outside of Vassalheim?”

Vex’ahlia has moved on to ignoring Cassandra and Scanlan, and is now glaring at Dr. Dranzel while she negotiates the amount owed due to the losses of silverware.

“All of you, shut the hell up!” Kaylie shouts, and the room falls silent. “ _Thank_ you,” she adds, once all eyes are on her. “Can we please focus on the main point at hand?”

“Oh,” says Scanlan, as though he were only just remembering. “Listen, there’s a crowd of goliaths out there, chasing us, and we are meant to be leading them to the main gate. And we haven’t.”

“Can I help?” Dr. Dranzel asks.

“Doctor,” Scanlan says, sincerely, “you are one of my oldest and dearest friends. But, but, I think I need my daughter’s help on this one.”

Dr. Dranzel smirks. “Same as always, you sonuvabitch. Kaylie?”

Kaylie nods and grins. “Let’s go, you sonuvabitch.”

And then the two of them cast some amazingly interesting magic, and they terrify away all the goliaths that had been chasing them, and then they guide the troupe to the sewers for a getaway.

“Kaylie,” Scanlan says, “listen. I want you- I want you to get out of here, get somewhere safe. Far away from all these fucking dragons. Alright? You’re my baby girl, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Kaylie smirks and rolls her eyes. “Oh, shaddup, you old fart.” And she presses a kiss to his cheek. She then motions for Cassandra to lean in.

Cassandra leans in, and Kaylie presses a kiss to her lips.

“Oh,” says Cassandra.

“Oh,” Kaylie agrees. “Listen, beloved, next time you see me- well, hopefully, we’ll have a bit more time for each other.”

“Yeah,” Cassandra says. “Um. Hopefully.”

And then Kaylie Shorthalt vanishes into the sewers of Westruun.

Scanlan stares at Cassandra.

“So,” he says. “My daughter.”

Cassandra wishes, suddenly, that the dragon would swoop down right at that moment and put her out of her misery. “Yes,” she says, “your daughter.”

Scanlan keeps on staring at her, and then begins moving away, back towards the gates.

“I wish I were dead,” Cassandra says to the air. Vex’ahlia lays a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“He can’t hold a grudge forever?” She tries to reassure. “Besides, it could’ve been worse.”

Cassandra stares at Vex morosely. “I just met my ex, who was my first kiss, whilst getting chased by a crowd of barbarians, with her father in the room, and her father is one of the most ridiculous people I know, and last time he was mad at someone he shamed them to death while they were drowning. Please, describe how it could be worse.”

Vex hesitates briefly, and then for a moment more. “Uh, it could have been Keyleth and her dad?”

Cassandra scuffs the dusty ground. “Vex, I appreciate you’re trying, but I think that I’m just going to resign myself to my fate.”

Vex sighs at her melodrama, and then they begin sprinting back towards the town gates, until Vax’ildan’s voice begins crackling through the earrings.

“Hello, hello? Anyone there? What’s happening?”

“What? Why in the world aren’t you outside the gates? Did the plan work?” Vex’ahlia responds.

“Ehhhh, only six goliaths came running out, so not so much,” Vax replies. “What the hell is taking all of you so long?”

“We ran into Dranzel,” Scanlan tells him. “Why the hell are you in here and not outside the gates?”

“The plan actually worked!” Keyleth interrupts. “We killed, like, eight of Grog’s old friends. So now we’re in to beat the shit out of his shithead uncle.”

“A plan we made worked?” Vex wonders. “That doesn’t sound like us.”

“Fucksakes, can we meet or something? I fuckin’ hate these earrings,” Grog interrupts.

They meet in a nearby alleyway and Grog explains the meat shields of the citizens of Westruun, they plot out the murder of Kevdak Strongjaw, following up with casting several spells on Grog to make the fight easier for him. Pike casts Aid on him, Cassandra, and Vex’ahlia, giving Grog and Cassandra a kiss on the cheek as she casts it.

And then, Grog kneels down to pass his salt lick rock over to Pike, and Pike tells him that she can’t lose him twice in one day, and then the rest of the group splits off to stealth as Grog marches to the center of the city.

They all perch on the buildings surrounding the main square, and Grog, holding the elf’s head in his hand, approaches a goliath with a horrific mossy infection all over his neck.

They have a brief conversation together, and at several moments the surrounding goliaths seem nearly ready to rip Grog’s head off.

And then, the mossy-necked goliath throws his head back and laughs, and he calls for the Thunder Lord to come out, while the rest of the goliaths shout and howl and bang their weapons against the ground.

Kevdak appears on the balcony of what used to be the Margrave’s home, grinning and glowering at Grog.

“So,” Kevdak thunders. “You return, Strongjaw, to the Herd of Storms! What in the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”

Grog pulls one arm back, and then chucks the elf’s head at Kevdak. “I’m here to take those fuckin’ knuckles off your goddamn corpse, Kevdak. I’m here to fuckin’ eliminate you.”

Kevdak smirks and snarls at Grog. “Listen, you piece of shit. I’ve already beat you near enough to death once, what’s to stop me from doing it again?”

Grog cracks his knuckles. “Y’know, Kevdak, when I left, you seemed to see fit to beat down on a child. But now I’m back, and I’ve killed dragons, and I’ve gotten real fuckin’ strong. But I got one last question for you before we fight.”

Kevdak gestures magnanimously. “Please, do.”

“Do you still squat when you piss?”

There’s a brief ripple of laughter through the crowd of goliaths, which is quickly silenced by Kevdak’s glare.

Kevdak then leaps over the edge of the balcony, and lands with a booming thud on the ground.

“Trial by combat,” Kevdak shouts, “is a privilege reserved for members of the Herd of Storms. You, Grog Strongjaw, have not been a member of this Herd for many years, not since you decided to lie there and bleed out like a goat.

“But, your gall yet amuses me. Let it be known that, for this brief respite, until his dead body hits the ground and he is fed to the wolves, Grog Strongjaw is a member of the Herd of Storms! Assemble the ring!”

The goliaths begin running around the town square, assembling a makeshift wooden ring for the battle.

Kevdak is delivered a large, dark red axe.

And then he suddenly becomes enormous.

“Holy fuck,” Cassandra whispers to herself.

Grog and Kevdak begin battle in earnest. The vast majority of it is slashing with the axe, versus smashing with the hammer, all based on two goliath barbarians who really aren’t taking much of any damage.

Then, Grog is slammed onto a spike, so that it ends up sticking out of the front of his chest.

Grog manages to tear his way off the spike, but Kevdak is very clearly winning this fight.

Finally, Grog falls to his knees, and says a few words to Kevdak.

“Vox Machina!” Grog shouts. “Fuck! Shit! Up!”

“Oh _hell_ yes,” Cassandra whispers, and the shadows around Kevdak are already coming up and spiraling around him as the Hex bites into his flesh; and she’s flung her Icebite and her Stormslice into him, and she’s leaping down from the building. As she leaps, Vex’ahlia fires an arrow that appears to be aflame, and then another natural arrow, towards the crowd of goliath archers.

And then, Kevdak slams his axe into Grog again. And again. And again.

And then Scanlan, one of Cassandra’s favorite gnomes, screams from the top of the building he’s on, and Kevdak and the mossy-necked goliath both creak to a halt.

And then, Grog stands, and Cassandra watches from the corner of the building as he rips the axe out of Kevdak’s hands. “I hope you’ve got a necromancer in your group,” Grog growls at Kevdak, “because I’m looking at a fuckin’ dead man.”

And then, with Grog’s berserker grin, he slashes Kevdak’s left arm off.

And then, all of Grog’s fucking herd rushes in, and they begin beating the absolute shit out of him.

Cassandra barely sees, out of the corner of her eyes, Keyleth manage to whirlwind several archers off the rooftop, while blades that she can only assume come from Vax’ildan come whistling out of nowhere and bury themselves in Kevdak

And then, a brilliant white light comes streaking off the top of a nearby building, and slams straight into Kevdak.

And then Cassandra hears a disappointing _clang-clang-clang_ which usually means that Pike has fallen off of something.

Cassandra whirls her Stormslice and her Icebite at Kevdak again, since they’ve returned to her, and then dashes across the field and begins herding the innocents away.

By the time she’s returned, Kevdak looks to be nearly dead, and Grog looks to be well on his way as well, and Cassandra watches as Vex’ahlia swoops down on her broom, holding out her necklace, and swipes Grog away from the herd.

Then, as the rest of the group continue attacking, they hear Grog Strongjaw scream in midair, “For Strongjaw!” and Kevdak is chopped in half.

The battle pauses at this, watching Grog shout and slice the former leader in half.

And the Grog collapses on the ground.

“Witness Grog Strongjaw!” Vex’ahlia shouts from midair. “Witness him, and bend the knee!”

And, the most surprising thing about that- although it shouldn’t be, with Cassandra knowing Vex’ahlia’s talent for words- the goliaths kneel, except for the one with the green neck.

There’s a beat of silence.

Vax’ildan leaps off the rooftop where he was hidden, landing on Kevdak’s body, holding both his arms out. “Kevdak has fallen,” he calls to the goliaths. “Will you let Strongjaw rise?”

The archers across the way move forward to the edge of the building.

Then, Scanlan leaps off the building, and begins chanting Grog’s name. Grog stands, slowly, as though the chanting were healing him, and then Scanlan casts Bigby’s Hand and lifts Grog far above the herd.

“Herd of Storms,” Grog shouts. “Hear me well. I told Kevdak that I have grown since I left this herd, and I did not lie. I have faced greater enemies than this herd ever has, far greater enemies than that which Kevdak has tried to force you to bend your wills to!”

He throws down what looks like an ivory dagger into the crowd. “I tell you all this: under the proper rule, the Herd of Storms would kneel to no one. Dragons would kneel to the herd. Where is Zanror?”

The green-necked goliath hobbles forward. “In many ways, Strongjaw, you stand above us. But claiming dominion over a heard that you left- that you _fell_ to, so many years ago- what makes you think you could be a leader? So you struck down Kevdak. So what? What makes you think that you could lead us to victory?”

Grog bellows laughter. “You mistake me, Seer of the Herd! I do not mean to lead this herd, but rather to empower you to more powerful game. I’m here to inspire your aspirations. I don’t ask you to bend the knee. Only that you live and fight and perhaps die in the most beautiful death you can possibly attain. Join me and my fellows. Come to our aid when I call. And with that, we will chase down dragons, gods, and more.”

There is a pause, and then Greenbeard sends someone off to collect Zanror.

It’s at that point that Pike finally totters out from the alleyway she had apparently fallen into, face cut and bruised, her mace of disruption covered with blood. “Did we win?” she asks the general vicinity.

“Your brother just chopped Kevdak in half,” Cassandra offers.

“Badass,” Pike says, and she holds out her hand and casts healing magic into Grog. As she casts it, another goliath comes stumbling out of the alley from behind Pike. As Cassandra is about to shout to warn her, Pike slams her mace backwards into the goliath’s sternum.

“Y’know, I don’t know how people can’t tell you two are related,” Cassandra tells her.

After nearly a full minute, two goliaths, both draped in chains, are guided out of the Margrave’s home, one of whom Cassandra recognizes as Zanror.

“Strongjaw,” Zanror says. His eyes slide over to Kevdak’s corpse.

“Cousin,” Grog says, and he waves to Scanlan to land the hand. It does, and Grog steps off it and approaches his cousin.

Grog and Zanror have a quiet conversation with each other. The green goliath then spits at him, and there’s a brief argument and abuse, and, and then Grog is given the gauntlets, and then he seems intent to execute his cousin.

And then Grog beheads the green-necked goliath.

And he shouts to the crowd, “Do you see? Do you now see what staying in one place does? This is weakness. Weakness! I would return you to power, I would return you to the wilderness. But you will do this under this goliath’s rule.” He turns and barks an order to the guard holding the chains, and Scanlan’s Bigby’s Hand points to Zanror as well.

Zanror and the female goliath with him are both unchained, and they both stand tall. Then, finally, Zanror shouts to the crowd that Vox Machina will be granted immunity, and that they will bathe in the blood of the dragon the next morning.

And then the battle is over, and Cassandra steps out from the shadows and takes great pleasure in scaring the tar out of goliaths that aren’t Grog.

Pike and everyone but Grog revivify a dead villager, after which Pike jumps onto Grog’s shoulders to help him flay off one of Kevdak’s tattoo and take his and the green-necked goliath’s skull.

Cassandra takes the bodies of the villagers that have died as meat shields, and she prepares the bodies of the villagers in the custom of the worshippers of Pelor, as she grew up seeing, since she first witnessed her grandmother’s ceremony when she was five.

She crosses their arms over their chests, allows them each five minutes in the sun- it’s truncated, but she doesn’t trust these goliaths with these bodies as far as she could throw Grog. And then, she enlists a few of the goliaths to carefully lay the bodies in the flames.

She kneels at the flames, as soon as all the bodies have begun to burn, and she prays.

“Help them,” she whispers to the Raven Queen. “Take them to wherever they’re meant to go, and protect them from their souls rotting away on the material plane for centuries and centuries and centuries.”

She feels a brief warmth curl around her and she feels a promise, a _yes of course_ said in some unsounding physical sensation.

She gathers with the rest of the group, and they all go off to deliver a small child to his mother. The boy is delivered safely, and they encourage the mother to seek some kind of escape from Westruun.

They then go to find Pike’s grandfather.

The house is partially collapsed, and the door is barricaded, so Vax’ildan needs to climb up through the broken second floor.

Except for everyone gets tired of waiting for him, so they just slam the door open.

“Well done, you’ve broken a chaise lounge,” Vax’ildan says, muffled, from inside the house.

The old gnome had hidden himself in the pantry, but he gives away his hiding place when he informs them that he’s not there. He’s constantly anxious and concerned about everything and goes back to hide in the pantry a good two or three times, with Grog pulling him back every time.

Then, Wilhand pulls out some homemade ail which singes Pike’s eyebrows, which she then chugs like it’s the end of the world.

“Save some for the rest of us,” Cassandra says.

They finish the Trickfoot Brew, and Scanlan casts the mansion for Wilhand, and they go out to find the thing for the wizard.

They find a giant fucking metal man in his basement, and Keyleth takes control of it with some kind of circlet around her head.

“Wow,” says Vex’ahlia.

“Fassbender,” Keyleth says, because she can’t help but name new things, “fly.”

The giant metal man jumps about six feet into the air.

“This is so fucking radical,” Cassandra says.

“I wonder if he can cast spells,” Keyleth wonders. “Who wants to be the test subject?”

Cassandra tries to play nose goes, but everyone else does ‘not it’ which ends up with Keyleth pointing Fassbender towards her.

And then everyone around her is moving very fast.

And a minute later, everything goes back to normal.

“ _Fuck_ you, Keyleth,” she says. “Fuck you. And fuck all the rest of you, for doing not it instead of nose goes.”

Vex’ahlia just laughs at her, and Cassandra punches her in the arm hard enough to bruise.

“Fuck this robot,” she adds.

They guide the metal thing back to Wilhand’s house, where they have to leave it outside the mansion.

Then, Scanlan takes Cassandra into the sewers to search for Kaylie.

After they slash off a horde of rats, they pop out of the sewers outside of Westruun, with only a few tracks to mark where the troupe have gone.

“Looks like they made it out,” Cassandra says, not making eye contact with Scanlan.

“Huh,” Scanlan says, scuffing at the dirt. “Well, that’s fine then.”

There’s a brief, awkward pause.

“Let’s have a chat, Cassie-bo,” Scanlan says, sitting up on the top of the sewer. “I think we need a chat.”

“Uhhh,” Cassandra says. “Do we have to?”

Scanlan laughs, which helps Cassandra feel just a bit calmer. “Don’t worry so much, Cassie-bo. I’m not going to burn you at the stake.”

Cassandra sits down, cross-legged, next to Scanlan. She tilts her head back to gaze at the stars.

“So,” he says. “You’re dating my daughter.”

“Kind of,” Cassandra says. “There was a kiss- there were two kisses- and there’s a letter and there’s a kind of come by and see me.”

“Well, I think that Kaylie figures that that’s enough,” Scanlan says, kicking his legs back and forth. “And I think that us two ought to talk about that.”

Cassandra sucks her breath in through her teeth. “I suppose.”

“Listen,” Scanlan says. “You can calm down. I’m not gonna threaten to kill you if you hurt her- but you’re awfully lucky that your patron is the Raven Queen, because I _will_ kill you if you hurt her- I just wanna ask you a question. Do you like her?”

Cassandra’s brain stops. “What?”

“Do you like her? Do you think that you could love her? I’m not, right now, I’m not asking you if you love her, because you’re only eighteen and she’s only twenty-nine, and I want to know if you like her.”

Cassandra considers Kaylie, considers her pixie-short hair and her sparkling eyes and her lute and her songs and her knife. “Yes,” she says. “I think so. I’m never going to hurt her, and I think that if she _is_ dating me, then I think that I’m pretty lucky.”

Scanlan nods as she finishes. “Good answer,” he says. “You’ve got a good heart, Cassie-bo.”

Scanlan jumps off the sewer and Cassandra follows, and the two of them make their way back through the sewers.

They return to the mansion and eat dinner, after which everyone goes off on their own.

Cassandra tries to read a book, but her mind is in a million places at once. She prays briefly, just long enough for her to reach her matron, and then she gets too distracted. She winds up doing push-ups for a bit, and then she just lies face-down on the carpet.

Ten hours later, she wakes up after a peaceful, dreamless sleep, with the carpet imprinted on her face. She stumbles down to breakfast, where Scanlan, Keyleth, and Pike are waiting, and they all immediately begin insulting her for the carpet pattern on her face.

“Fuck off,” she mutters as she eats breakfast chicken. “It’s too early for me to not hit you people for fucking with me.”

Eventually, everyone else wakes up, and they all head off to speak with Grog’s cousin.

“Shouldn’t we have done this yesterday?” Cassandra asks, trotting to keep up with Grog. “I thought your cousin wanted us to _attack_ at dawn.”

“I thought we were plannin’ at dawn,” Grog says, looking somewhat confused.

“Grog, when has _anyone_ ever said the phrase ‘at dawn, we plan’?”

Grog shrugs. “I thought Zanror did, yesterday.”

Cassandra stares.

Finally, they arrive at the Margrave’s home to speak with Zanror. And the first thing that he does is tell Grog to take off his uncle’s bear tattoo.

“But it looks fuckin’ sweet,” Grog protests.

“No, take it off before it rots,” Cassandra tells him.

“It’s gross,” Vax’ildan adds.

“It looks sick, Grog,” Pike says.

“ _Pike_ says it looks sick,” Grog says, looking triumphant.

“But take it off, because it’ll rot. We’ll get you an even sicker tattoo once we kill that dragon!” Pike says.

After Grog has removed the flayed tattoo- but put it in the Bag of Colding, because it’s obviously important material to keep around- they all get down to planning. The dragon, Zanror tells them, comes at noon, and that they plan on pitching a surprise attack.

And that’s when someone attempts mutiny.

“We do not recognize you as the Thunderlord, Zanror,” the wild elf declares. “Kevdak was a true leader. What are you? A child, still desperate for his first blood, too foolish to know when his circumstances are good!”

There’s a pause, as everyone in the room acknowledges the elf and the goliaths behind him.

“Kevdak conquered the River Maw,” the elf continues, barely more quietly. “And now that he is no more, the River Maw will split from the herd. We will chase our own prey, run our own fens. You all are welcome to die as you like.”

“You’re leaving?” Zanror asks, reaching for a weapon. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

The elf juts out his chin. “Yeah,” he says. “We’re gone. The Herd ain’t nothin’ if you’re leadin’ it to death. We’d rather live on, the way we lived ‘fore you an’ your cousin mucked everything up.”

“Shut the door,” Zanror tells him, and the elf shuts it.

“Shit,” Scanlan says.

Zanror leans back in his chair. “So, cousin, what about you? Are you with me, or will you and your people leave too?”

“We back your play, Thunderlord,” Grog tells him.

“And the rest of you?” Zanror asks, nodding to Vox Machina. “Where do your allegiances lie?”

“Not with the cowards who would abandon you before a tough fight,” Scanlan says, examining his fingernails.

“Who are you callin’ a coward, little man?” the female goliath standing behind the wood elf says.

“Watch your words,” Grog warns, “lest they be the last ones you utter.”

The goliath glances at Grog and snorts before spitting at Scanlan.

“That’s not very nice,” Scanlan says, having finally put his hand away from his face.

“Neither is callin’ me a coward,” the woman says.

“What do you want him to do, lie?” Cassandra mutters, and the goliath woman turns to her.

“What the _fuck_ did you just say, you piece of shit human?”

Cassandra looks into her eyes and glares. “I _said_ , you wouldn’t want him to _lie_ , would you?”

The goliath woman steps forward, one hand on her greataxe, but the wild elf stops her.

“You can kill yourself for this dragon if you want, Zanror,” the wild elf says. “I’m takin’ my people and leavin’.”

“How many go with you?” Vex asks.

The male goliath looks down at her. “And who are you?”

“Vex’ahlia. Answer the question, please.”

“We take nineteen, in total,” the wild elf says.

“May I interrupt?” Pike asks politely. “I do think that it’s fair that you want to protect your people, but if we don’t defeat this dragon here- it will come after you. And if we fight together now, we’re more likely to kill the dragon, since there’s strength in numbers.”

The male goliath looks down at Pike and snorts. “It’s funny, Zanror. Ever since I came in here, it’s just been tiny people talking for you.”

Cassandra steps forward, at her full four inches taller than Vax’ildan. “I’m a few feet taller. Talk to me.”

The male goliath snorts. “You’ve already talked to Tress. I think you’ve spoken enough, little girl.”

“Listen,” Vax’ildan says, stepping in front of Cassandra. “You can run if you want, but this dragon will fucking come for you. It will come for you, it will come for your family, it will come and it will burn you and it will destroy you and your tribe, if you don’t help us kill this dragon. You all might be strong, but compared to an ancient fucking dragon? You are _nothing_. That dragon could kill all your people with a blink.”

The female goliath snorts. “And your tiny people can do better?”

“Our tiny people are pretty damn powerful,” Vex says.

“We’ve already killed dragons,” Pike says, pulling out her dragon tooth necklace and tossing it to the female goliath. “Killed a couple, actually. Vex, Cass, and Grog have killed three.”

The goliath examines the tooth and then throws it back at Pike’s feet. “You can buy that off of any traveling caravan,” she says.

“We’ve killed white dragons, motherfucker,” Vex says as Pike spits at the goliath’s feet.

“Let them go, they’re cowards,” Scanlan heckles halfheartedly.

“Zanror,” Keyleth says, “if you don’t have their allegiance here, you won’t have it on the battlefield. Only big men talk big words that fail on the battlefield. He doesn’t have anything to represent his claims. Let him go.”

“We wanna kill this thing,” Vax says. “They wanna be pricks.”

“Let them go,” Keyleth says again, softer. “You’re already losing eighteen. Just let them go.”

Zanror waves, and his guards open the doors behind the group. “You want to leave?” he asks. “Fine. Leave. But you better fuckin’ run, because after we kill the dragon, we’re coming for you. So I hope you can get far away from here, for your sake. The rest of us, we will bathe in the drake’s blood, with he who fell from the sky and sliced Kevdak asunder. So run, deserters.” He turns and looks over Vox Machina. “I’ve your arms at my back for this, aye?”

“Aye,” Vox Machina says.

The wild elf and the goliaths turn to leave, but Pike trips the elf as he goes, and he glares at her.

“Sorry,” Pike says sweetly. “I’m just so little, you probably didn’t notice me.”

The group continues out of the door, and the guards close them behind the group.

Zanror leans back in his chair. “Fuck.”

After that episode, the herd is determined to be twenty-six strong, including Zanror’s pregnant wife, and it is decided that, in the interest of building traps, the tithe will be put out the next morning.

Vax’ildan goes off to help with building traps under the treasure- it’s the kind of logic of since he’s the best at spotting traps, he ought to be fine enough at building the damn things- and Pike also helps him briefly, just long enough for her to cover it with glyphs that will damage the dragon when it lands. Vex’ahlia and Keyleth go off to guide the refugees to safety, and Grog gives what’s left of the herd an impromptu lesson on fighting dragons.

Cassandra is left by herself. At first, all she does is dart around the rooftops of Westruun- not for any particular reason, but it’s been months since she’s been in Emon, an the sole royalty in Whitestone can’t be seen going out and running on the town roofs.

Then, Pike finally returns, and Cassandra goes to talk to her.

“Hey, Cassie!” Pike says, sounding surprised to see her. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Cassandra says, fidgeting, again. “Uh. Wanna talk about religion stuff?”

Pike smles at Cassandra. “Sure! Would you mind if we went to Paw-Paw Wilhand’s place?”

Cassandra smiles in return. “Um, no, not at all, I suppose.”

They head back to Wilhand’s house, and Pike takes Cassandra up to her bedroom.

“Let’s talk,” Pike says. “Now, Sarenrae and the Raven Queen- they’re, um, not friends, really. But I think that I can try to help you.”

Cassandra fidgets with the feathers on the shoulders on the Deathwalker’s Ward. “How do you become a cleric?”

Pike’s eyes widen. “Oh,” she says. “Uh. Let’s talk.”

And they do talk, they talk for hours and only emerge from Pike’s room to have a Heroes’ Feast and discuss general plans- Cassandra doesn’t pay much attention beyond hiding, twins being long distance, Scanlan attempts to hold the monster still, et cetera et cetera.

Scanlan casts the mansion, and Cassandra goes to her room and prays.

She prays for two hours, and she hears, vaguely, the Matron’s voice. _Are you sure little spark because I do not easily release those that have given themselves to me and I will not take from you what you do not offer_

Cassandra takes a deep breath. “You have already taken much from me,” she says. “And, perhaps, I did offer it, but there is no one in any world that would tell you that I agreed without being under duress. I now offer this to you, with no outside pressures forcing me to do it, I offer this from my free will.”

There’s a brief, chilled silence in the room.

_You are so young little spark and I believe that your choices will shake the entire world but you are still yet young and you need not set your own path for your life at this time_

Cassandra takes a deep, shivering breath. “Dragons have invaded Tal’dorei,” she says. “They have ravaged the home that I made for myself in Emon, and for all I know they are coming to first home, to Whitestone, next. The world as I know it may stop existing with these dragons about. I am going to do battle with an ancient black dragon tomorrow, and for all that I know, it will be the last battle I ever see. I may die tomorrow, my lady. I am secure in making my decision now, as the only myself that I currently have access to is the myself that lives today.”

There’s another brief silence, and a warm feeling of support.

 _Little spark_ the voice says. _Little spark I will believe in your choices and I will believe in whatever decision that you make and I accept your service in my name and I hope that your arrival in my domain will be delayed for years to come_

Cassandra feels a warmth around her, and then the warmth coalesces to the center of her breastbone, and then it turns into a burning chill. Cassandra remains kneeling with her eyes closed for one moment more, and then she stands slowly in the unchilled midnight of her mansion room. She puts her hand to her collarbone, but the chill has vanished.

Cassandra climbs into bed and tries to get some sleep.

She wakes in the morning, and goes down the mansion stairs to have her chicken breakfast. As everyone slowly files in, their is no banter, no laughing, no jokes and no funny insults. Everyone knows that this could be the end.

“Listen,” Vax says, just before everyone is about to leave. “If this is the end, I just wanna say- thank you all, for being my family.”

And that’s when the ice breaks, and Vex gets her brother in a headlock and Pike punches him in the side and Scanlan calls him a crybaby.

“This isn’t the end,” Grog says. “I didn’t get these fuckin’ knuckles just to die the next day.”

“This isn’t the end,” Keyleth says, flexing her hand around her staff. “I swear to all of you, this isn’t the end.”

“This isn’t the end,” Cassandra declares. “There’s no way that the end of Vox Machina is gonna be some black dragon. We’ve killed plenty of white dragons, I don’t have any doubt that we can kill a black dragon.”

They then continue their way out of the mansion and out of the city, to where the treasure is gathered for the dragon. Cassandra is hidden away about the same distance from the traps as the twins are, so that they can all attack without being noticed. The herd are all several hundred more feet away, as they are not the most subtle of people. Pike is hidden a bit closer than the herd, Grog is standing next to the treasure, and Keyleth is standing beside a tree, presumably trying to hide.

When Cassandra first sees the dragon, her heart pounds in her chest as though it’s going to jump out. There’s a sudden curtain of dread closing over her mind as the drake flies closer. When it lands, Cassandra almost feels as though the dread will swallow her whole.

And then, Pike’s glyphs and Vax’s traps go off, and the fight is on.

Grog charges first, and attacks the dragon with the axe that he took off his uncle, swinging once, twice, three times into the dragon’s hide.

Then, Vex’ahlia shoots two arrows- and Cassandra could swear, one of those arrows goes straight through the dragon, with the pained cry that it releases.

Next, Vax and Cassandra loose all of their daggers into the dragons- Cassandra’s Stormslice bounces off the hide, but all of Vax’ildan’s strike true, and Cassandra clenches her fist at the same time and casts Hex on the dragon.

Then, Scanlan screams a burst of some song at the dragon, and the dragon stills, briefly, before it continues flailing.

And then the dragon begins to rise off the ground, before one of Pike’s other glyphs is triggered, and the dragon collapses back onto the ground.

Then the herd charges forward, and they all throw spears with ropes attached to the end in order to hold the dragon down.

And then, Keyleth reaches forward and attempts to cast some kind of spell on the dragon, but it apparently fails, as she curses and transforms into an earth elemental instead, and charges the dragon with Grog.

The dragon struggles, again, and the shadows of Hex cut into it and don’t allow it to escape.

And then Pike steps forward and holds out her hand and casts a bright light into the dragon so that it glows a bit. Then, almost as an afterthought, she conjures an enormous, gold, glowing rapier above the dragon, which slashes at its head.

And then Grog slashes again, three times, slashing deep and angry.

Vex’ahlia shoots again, twice, neither arrow as powerful as the first one had been.

Cassandra and Vax’ildan fling their daggers again, this time all of Cassandra’s piercing while one of Vax’ldan’s skims off the thick scales.

The dragon tries to rise, again, but between the hex and the daggers and the traps and the glyphs and the rope, it can barely move.

Scanlan rolls his hands around, and there’s a sharp, piercing sound coming from approximately the dragon’s head.

The herd pulls the ropes down on either side of the dragon, and a few take quick swings.

Keyleth slams at the dragon twice, with her great earthen fists.

The dragon struggles, once more, and although several of the ropes snap, it is still stuck to the ground.

Grog takes three attacks against it again, one of which glances off its hide.

Vex’ahlia shoots her arrows.

Cassandra flings her daggers. Vax’ildan drinks a potion.

The dragon is still restrained by the ropes.

Scanlan grabs Vax’ildan, and they both vanish in a purple haze.

Vex’ahlia flings her arms up into the air, and, suddenly, there are two enormous eagles flying around the dragon.

The battle continues like that for a very long time, the dragon attempting to escape while the traps, the herd, and Hex only just barely managing to hold it down.

Finally, the dragon manages to break free from its restraints, and it rises up in the air slowly, its wings beating heavily, and it breathes out a a great gasp of of acid.

Most of the Herd is immediately vaporized. Cassandra sees Vex’ahlia just barely dodge out of the way, but the dragon suddenly rising up into the air triggers a primal fear in Cassandra, and she freezes. The acid hits her, but the Deathwalker’s Ward manages to absorb the worst of the acid.

After the dragon breathes acid, Cassandra can see Keyleth and Grog still dangling from the dragon’s tail and foot.

The dragon begins flying away, looking sick and almost dead.

Vex’ahlia climbs atop her broom, and her two eagles swoop by to grab Cassandra and Pike.

They track the dragon all the way to the base of Gatshadow, until Keyleth and Grog fall off the dragon and Scanlan and Vax fall… _out_ of the dragon.

By the time that everyone has landed and gathered back together, Cassandra can see that Vax’ildan is two feet tall.

There’s a thousand desperately sarcastic comments clamoring for Cassandra’s attention, but all she can do is stare as Vex’ahlia lifts him up and puts him on Trinket.

And that’s when an old one-armed goliath woman stumbles out of the forest.

“Who are you?” Vex asks.

“I’m Shale,” the old goliath woman explains, leaning on her cane. “I was part of a scouting party, but these old bones don’t take me as far as they used to.”

“Shale!” Grog exclaims. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

This follows with some bullshit discussion about Grog being a runt and something called “goatball”.

“Should we just go up, straight away, right now?” Vex’ahlia finally asks, now that they’ve circled around back to the original discussion.

Vox Machina all take in their various injuries, patting down their cuts, bruises, and acidic burns.

“I recommend resting,” Grog says, now that he’s no longer a giant eagle. “I mean, I’m fine an’ all, but a lot a’ you little folk should prob’ly fix yourselves up.”

“But, I mean,” Vax’ildan says, still atop Trinket “if we rest, so does the dragon. And the more time the dragon has to rest, the harder it’ll be to kill him.”

“Well, hang on,” Keyleth says. “It probably takes about fifteen minutes to fly up the mountain, and then back down right? So we fly half the group up, leave them to rest, and fly the rest of the group up after they’ve rested waiting for us.”

“We’ve eight people, Kiki,” Cassandra points out. “And we’ve only two eagles.”

“I mean, if I rest up, then I can get my Beast Shape back-” Keyleth begins, and Shale is walking away.

“You rest up, dearie,” she calls over her shoulder. “I’ll get started, don’t you worry!”

Shale starts slowly climbing her way up the craggy stones of Gatshadow while the rest of them hash out how the eagles are going to work. By the time they’ve determined that a group of eagles will take up one group, and then another group of eagles will take up the other once Keyleth’s regained her Beast Shape, Shale’s made it a whole sixty-five feet.

Grog is the one that guides her back to the group, at which point she informs him that he is destined to kill the dragon, and then informs him that it’s bullshit.

“Are you sure that you want to fight?” Grog asks as they wait for Vax’ildan, Vex, Scanlan, and Pike to reach the peak. “‘Cause, y’know, you’re kinda old. An’ I don’t think that staff is a staff of dragon-killing.”

“It would be, if you people had gotten on with it faster,” Shale snaps.

Finally, near enough past a half hour later, two more giant eagles appear, and with them, Keyleth transforms into a similar shape, and finally everyone is reunited at the top of the mountain, looking much better than they had when they had first landed.

Once they reach the top, Vax’ildan climbs in through a tiny side passageway, while the rest of the party skirt their way around the edges of some magical rocks at the main entrance.

And then, they proceed to lay absolute waste to the fucking dragon.

The lair is filled with pools of acid, and the dragon has healed, but not as much as it could have to turn the battle into the worst case scenario.

The dragon nearly manages to tear Cassandra and Vex’ahlia in half, but a combination of extremely deft movement and Scanlan singing his wonderful, stupid songs help them to just barely avoid having their insides torn out.

Scanlan, for his part, fills the cave with his spells and sparks and casting nine magic missiles at once, and then casting a fireball and filling the air with spells that nearly sear the hide off the dragon.

Grog is a menace, screaming up to the dragon and nearly slashing off its claws with his axe, and then going off and running in the opposite direction when the dragon flees.

The dragon goes invisible at the start of the battle, which is the main reason why Cassandra and Vex’ahlia are nearly killed, but Keyleth pulls out some amazing spell that covers the dragon with pink… dust? Sparkles? Flames? All of which not only make the dragon visible, but also make it much easier to hit.

Cassandra barely even sees Vax’ildan throughout the battle, but she can feel the impact that he’s having on the dragon, mostly by way of spotting his blades in the dragon’s hide just before they vanish back to his belt.

Pike is, as always, phenomenal, keeping the party alive and casting spells that also make the dragon easier to hit, because there’s nothing quite like a dragon somehow being extremely easy to hit.

Shale manages to whack the dragon a few times on the snout, and that’s all Cassandra can say about that.

And finally, at the end of the battle, Grog swings his enormous axe and cleaves the dragon’s head in two, just as it was about to spew more acid on them.

Cassandra falls to the ground at the same time as the dragon does, panting with exhaustion while Vex’ahlia and Keyleth begin stripping the dragon’s corpse of its teeth, eyes, hide, and dignity.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Pike says next to her. “Cassie, you’ve killed four fucking dragons!”

Cassandra heaves a deep, ragged breath. “Hell yes, I have.” She pushes herself against the wall of the cave to stand up. “And you, Pike, have killed three.”

Pike grins at her, and then runs over to Grog to cheer about him landing the killing blow. Cassandra wanders off to the hoard.

They agree, obviously, that the majority of the hoard ought to go back to the people of Westruun, but Vex’ahlia wheedles them all into taking a cut of it. They take maybe two thousand gold worth of jewels, trinkets, and various other treasures, including a book that Scanlan _swears_ will make him more charming, before they head back to Westruun, with Shale splitting away from them about halfway there to rejoin her herd.

Once they’re about two hundred feet away from the city gates, they run into a group of refugees.

The one in the lead, a human blacksmith named Kerr, sends the rest of his group onwards to gather up the remainder of the wealth, and he guides the rest of them back to the city, and they go out and spread the good news.

By that night, everyone in Westruun is drinking like it’s the end of the world, rather than the brand new beginning after killing something that could have destroyed it.

“Hey, Cassie,” Vex’ahlia says, sidling up to Cassandra as she’s drinking with Scanlan and Keyleth.

“Hey, what?”

Vax’ildan passes Cassandra a sack of gold. “See that woman at that table? Alone?”

Cassandra looks over and sees a young blonde human, sitting alone. “Vex, Vax, I- well, I appreciate the thought, but I’m dating Kaylie, remember?” And she pushes the sack back towards Vax’ildan.

Vex rolls her eyes. “No, you dunce. That’s Reginald’s daughter. And I think we ought to give her this, since we got her father killed, and all.”

Cassandra sighs and places her mug back on the table. “You’re right, as usual. Come on.”

Vox Machina approach the woman, and for some idiotic reason they all decide that Cassandra ought to be the one to talk to her.

Cassandra gets all of twenty words out before the woman starts sobbing, and so Cassandra orders her a tankard of ale and sits with the woman as the tears finish.

“I’m sorry,” she hiccups. “This is very kind of you all, to come and find me and give this to me. I’m sorry, I’m just such a mess.”

“Don’t apologize,” Vax’ildan says. “It’s been a hell of a week. I figure most of you deserve a few tears.”

Keyleth pats the woman on the arm. “Listen,” she says, “without your father, this city would still be ruled by goliaths. Your father is the reason that this town is free.”

The woman smiles wetly at Keyleth. “Thank you,” she says. “Not to be rude, but I’ve- I’ve got to be going home.” She stumbles out of her chair and near enough runs out of the tavern.

“Well,” Vex’ahlia says, after a brief pause, “now I just feel shitty.”

Cassandra falls asleep at the bar along with the rest of Vox Machina, as Scanlan can’t summon his mansion.

The next morning, they gather the townsfolk that remained in the city square, while Vox Machina stood on the gallows stage.

Scanlan gives a marvelous speech about hope, and then Keyleth gives a slightly rougher speech about finding leadership in the coming times, and then some uppity noblewoman tries to make things difficult and Cassandra needs to step in.

“Oh,” says the noblewoman, once she realizes that she’s losing the argument, “and I suppose we should trust the word of some _child_?”

Cassandra blinks in surprise at first, unused to anyone calling her a child after she kills a dragon. And then, she smiles her sickeningly sweet noblewoman smile that every good noblewoman only uses when a war criminal is begging for a pardon.

“Madame,” Cassandra says, smile frozen in place, “this ‘child’ just killed an ancient black dragon! One which was threatening your city! This ‘child’ is also the sole ruler of Whitestone, which means that she probably has a higher rank than you do! She has _also_ killed vampires, and three other dragons besides the most recent one!” Cassandra kneels down and leans in towards the woman. “Now, which of those traits make you think that this ‘child’ is untrustworthy?”

The woman takes several paces back and _hmph_ s haughtily. “No respect for their elders,” she mutters.

Cassandra stands back up and turns the stage over to Keyleth.

Keyleth finishes her speech, citing Kerr as an inspiration- and Cassandra sees him in the crowd, smiling proudly- and then Keyleth releases the town to do their repairs.

Cassandra spots Reginald’s daughter in the crowd, but she’s standing with a group of her friends.

Instead, Cassandra wanders over to one of the still-standing walls, and begins carving in the story of Reginald.

“Wow,” Keyleth says, once Cassandra is about halfway done. “That’s beautiful.”

“It’s true, what you said,” Cassandra says, not looking at Keyleth. “He’s the reason that the city is still alive. It’s the little people that we have to remember. Just because we slayed the dragon doesn’t mean that we’re the ones that saved the city.”

Keyleth steps closer to Cassandra and hugs her softly. “I know,” she says, somewhat muffled. “I think it’s perfect, Cassie. I think it’s exactly what this city needs.”

Keyleth steps away from Cassandra, and they both look down in time to see a young boy carving, in rough letters, something that looks like the story of how he and his siblings survived.

“This is good,” Cassandra says. “This is really good.”

She grins at Keyleth. “We’re gonna live through this."

**Author's Note:**

> me: im NOT gonna keep writing the casswap story  
> me, twenty-some thousand words later: fuck


End file.
